


Differential

by Amylion



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka is so wise, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Drama, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, No Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amylion/pseuds/Amylion
Summary: Luke grew up in an orphanage, unaware of his parentage. Vader, who’s been living as a hermit, never knew of his existence. When he moves back to the provincial town where he was born, their paths cross. Both living with their own trauma’s, they might need a little help to really see the other. And when that help arrives in the form of an overly cheerful Ahsoka Tano, well, they’ll just have to deal with it…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack for this chapter: Simeon Ten holt - Lemniscaat

“Hey! Luke! Have you finished your homework?”

Luke looked up from his last assignment. “Almost,” he whispered back. “You?”

Biggs sighed. “Not really. I don’t get those math questions. At all.”

“I could explain it to you if you like?” Luke said to the older boy.

“Quiet over there!” The voice interrupting their whisperings was strict, in a manner that suggested even thinking about talking back equaled a death wish. It was the librarian’s, and she enforced the no talking policy like her life depended on it.

“Give that to me,” Luke mouthed, and he gave the answer sheet Biggs slid over to his table a quick once-over. Relief bled through in Biggs’s voice when he thanked Luke. Math exercises his classmates and even older students struggled with posed no challenge to him at all. In fact, he enjoyed them and was always on the lookout for new puzzles. Unfortunately, their math’s teacher did not consider stimulating the young souls entrusted to him a part of his vocation, and limited his teaching to the bare minimum. Luke had even caught him making mistakes several times, but wouldn’t dream of trying to correct him. Not if he valued his life.

This disinterest in their wards applied to all teachers and caretakers. Theirs was not exactly what one would call a nurturing environment, but it was all Luke knew. He had been here all his life and had not a single memory of a life outside these walls, but he’d seen children arrive who did. They had a hard time adjusting. When Luke was just a baby a man who’d claimed to be his uncle had brought him here, he’d come alone, no parents in sight. He’d said Luke was his sister’s child, and that she was unable to look after him. The father hadn’t even been mentioned. That was all he knew, Beru hadn’t been able to tell him anything else. She was one of their caretakers and the exception who made life bearable: she let the children call her aunt, was soft-spoken and didn’t consider discipline the core of childrearing. She’d been present when Luke was dropped off here, a few days old at most, but couldn’t tell him anything more that held a clue as to his background.

The orphanage was always understaffed and overcrowded. There was a lack of money, lack of food, and a general lack of interest in what happened to the children who’d ended up here. They were understood not to come from the best walks of life, and therefore were nothing but a number in the system, fed and clothed until their eighteenth birthday, after which they were released in the great wide world. People generally didn’t come back to pay a visit or bask in fond childhood memories afterwards. Landing a low wage job was pretty much the highest goal children like them could hope to reach, was the message that was imprinted in their heads. Luke hated it here, yet overall he didn’t consider himself dangerously unhappy. There were the depressed kids, who cried themselves to sleep every night and kept the rest of them awake, or worse, the children who didn’t seem to care at all anymore. They didn’t do their homework, didn’t study, accepted the punishments, and underwent it all with the same hollow-eyed, empty look. Sometimes Luke wondered what happened to them when they got out, but only briefly. It was better not to know. He had the secret hope that his gift for mathematics would prove to be useful when he got to leave this place. He dreamed of a life of numbers and calculus, but kept those dreams to himself, afraid to be laughed at, and secretly afraid that he was not as good as he thought. The standards here were very low, after all, and though Beru told him repeatedly that he had a gift, Luke was also aware of the fact that she hadn’t had a higher education either. Her husband, Owen, was a seasonal worker, offering his services to farmers, ranchers and agricultural businesses, moving around to wherever they had work for him - a hard life for little money, the fate of the unschooled in this region. People like them couldn’t expect anything more from life, there was no hope here, no upwards mobility, and even the walls, the very air was permeated with that knowledge. The school library didn’t contain a single book that was published in the last decade. Still, Luke did hope, and that tiny bud of hope was what got him through the days and made him bear the hunger, the ill-fitting clothes and the punishments when he’d been walking too fast in the corridors or took too long to tie his shoelaces. He’d be fifteen in a few weeks. Which meant only three more years till his eighteenth birthday. Three more years till he could find out what the world held in store for him. He scribbled down the last part of the answer, and gave Biggs his answer sheet back.

 

***

 

“Hey Skywalker, your birthday’s coming up, right?”

“Erm, yeah. In a few weeks. Why?”

“Do you have plans? Sounds like a good time to celebrate that promotion too.”

“I don’t know, Ahsoka. The timing isn’t great. We’ll be out on manoeuvres,” he reminded his wingman.

“You’re soooo boring,” she complained. “That Instagram account of yours really paints the wrong picture.”

Anakin grinned. “Speaking of, I got another offer,” he said. “For advertising. Pays rather nicely.”

“Not for swimming trunks again, I hope?” Ahsoka waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Haha,” he said, not sparing the sarcasm. “Nope. Sunglasses. No one better to promote sunglasses than a pilot, right?”

She nodded appreciatively. “Indeed. So you’re gonna do it?”

“Yeah. I’d be crazy not to. When I said the pay’s nice, that was an understatement so you wouldn’t get too jealous.”

Anakin Skywalker was quite the legend. Test pilot of the newest shiny prototypes in the airforce, he was lauded for his legendary flying skills and talent for mechanics. As the child of a single mother in a small, industrial town in the middle of nowhere, far away from the nearest intellectual centre and surrounded by forest and farmland, he hadn’t grown up in luxury, but his rare talent for mathematics had not gone unnoticed after he won a competition that had given the local school he attended a much-needed boost in the form of a wave of positive publicity. The city council had milked it for all it was worth, hoping to put a stop to the dwindling population numbers. His victory had attracted the attention of a business tycoon who’d never gotten married and didn’t have children of his own, who lived nearby and had offered to be a Maecenas of sorts. In return for updates on his life and doings, he made sure Anakin could develop his gift and go to college. He’d skipped several grades and after he’d gotten his bachelor’s degree in mathematics, he’d gone on to pursue his dream of becoming a fighter pilot. At first, both his mother and benefactor had not exactly been enthusiastic, as they’d respectively envisioned a promising academic career and a corporate career for him, but they soon came round when it became clear that Anakin was insanely talented and might well be the best pilot of his generation.

About a year ago, Anakin had gotten hooked on Instagram. His unique lifestyle, reputation as a hotshot pilot and good looks quickly turned him into an internet celebrity. He had hundreds of thousands followers, and it didn’t take long before advertisers and big brands found him. They all wanted him as a poster boy for their products, and offered big bucks for him to place a single picture on his Insta-feed featuring their goods. He was extremely picky though, afraid it might damage his career and would earn him a reprimand from the higher-ups, but also because he genuinely enjoyed creating the perfect shot and didn’t want business to overrule pleasure in this aspect of his otherwise very regulated life. Now and then he accepted an offer though, which had earned him some nice cash on the side. He was thinking of buying a house, something he could have done ages ago, but it was a commitment he’d never wanted to make before, plus he moved a lot for work and often didn’t stay long in one place. Most of the time he and Ahsoka rented a house somewhere together and lived as roommates, one of the only constants in their otherwise busy lives. She was a brilliant pilot herself, and they’d been best friends since their first meeting.

“Hey Skyguy,” she called again from behind her laptop on the couch. “Did you get that girl’s number the other night? What was her name again?”

“Padmé,” he said. “And yes.”

“Called her yet?”

“Nah…”

“Why not? You were all over her!”

“I don’t know… I don’t really have time for girls.”

“Eh… I don’t get you. You liked her. She totally seemed like your type too.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“That’s because you never date!”

“I’m not interested in dating,” he said gruffly.

“Are you scaaaaaared?” Ahsoka asked, giggling. “Have we finally found something the hero with no fear is afraid of? Could it be?”

“I’m not scared!” His affront didn’t fool Ahsoka though.

“Are too!”

“I’m not. And for your information, she’s pretty much married to her job, so she’d probably say no anyway.”

“You two are a perfect fit then. Come on, give her a call. Or I’ll have to confiscate your phone again and do it for you.”

“Fine! I’ll call her tonight. And stay away from my phone, you demon.”

Ahsoka smiled, satisfied, and returned her attention to her screen, where she was busy bombing the hell out of the Germans anno 1943. She was an avid gamer in her spare time, an interest Anakin had never really understood. “I’m off, groceries. Anything you need?” he asked.

“Nah,” she said. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”

“It’s your turn to cook,” he reminded her, and then, half a minute later when she suddenly stayed very quiet, “I was thinking I’d like to try that basil walnut pesto over some fresh pasta. How’s that sound?”

“Brilliant! You’re the best!” Ahsoka called out.

Their cooking schedule existed as a formality only, that Ahsoka usually ignored. Cooking was not exactly her forte; eating, on the other hand, definitely was. In the kitchen, after a moment’s hesitation, Anakin unlocked his phone and opened Whatsapp. “Was great meeting you,” he typed. “I’d love to see you again.” Ahsoka was right. He really had liked her. Padmé Amidala.

 

***

 

This time of year the rain never let up for long. In the morning, when Luke woke up, it was still dark outside. The mist hung over the trees and buildings till noon, and returned sometime by the end of the afternoon. He was cold all the time and felt like everything, even his bedding, was moist, though that was not the case. The corridor leading from the dining room to the classrooms was, though. Here and there small puddles formed on the floor. The roof had been leaking for years, but it had only been fixed in the places where it was absolutely necessary. Despite the incessant rain, Luke wished he could go outside. He loved the nearby forest and went stir crazy after sitting inside the entire day, and besides, rain he loved. It was the cold that got to him. The bad weather clearly impacted his teachers’ mood as well. Mr. Madine especially, who taught maths, seemed grumpier than usual. The rain had a bad effect on his rheumatism, Aunt Beru had told them in a hushed whisper, and she’d warned them to behave. What she hadn’t said was that recent healthcare cuts and higher taxes had made it harder if well nigh impossible for Madine to pay for the medicine he needed. Poverty had left its mark on this entire region. It was obvious from the dilapidated buildings, the crumbling facades of the houses, the empty factories, that had been closed sometime around Luke’s birth, so he’d been told. Alternative employment had after the factories shut down never really found its way here. This was another reason Luke loved the forest, to escape the depressing sights and see something beautiful for once. The older he got, the more it was getting to him. Going outside during the week was out of the question, however, now the days were getting shorter and winter was fast approaching. They lived according to a strict schedule that never really left them unattended, since Camie, a girl two years younger than himself, had disappeared and was later found dead. It was unclear if she’d run off by herself or was taken away against her will, and they’d probably never know either, as the police had shut the case because of a lack of evidence.

“Hey Luke!” Biggs called as they crossed each other in the corridor.

“Hi. What’s up?” Biggs was one year older and was in the grade above Luke’s, but they were nevertheless maybe not exactly friends, but definitely friendly.

“Next time you make my homework, please make a mistake or two. Madine didn’t believe I did it myself,” Biggs grinned.

“If you can still laugh about it, it can’t have been too bad, can it?” Luke said.

“You’re right. He got distracted. Just to be sure, don’t make others’ homework so well. You’re the only one who makes those exercises perfectly. He’ll suspect you before long.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Thanks for getting me a good grade. Anything I can do in return?”

“Nah, not really. Unless you know a way I could go outside without anyone noticing.”

“Outside? Why would you go outside in this weather?”

“Fresh air,” Luke shrugged.

“Hmm. This building can be suffocating,” Biggs agreed. “Tell you what, you sneak out, I’ll cover for you if anyone asks. Say I just saw you in the library, or something like that.”

Luke considered the offer. He’d done so just two weeks before and lost track of time. When they’d been counted before dinner his classmates had ratted him out, scared for repercussions. It was everyone for himself in this place. When he got back, the headmistress had been furious. He still had the bruises to prove it and hadn’t been able to sit down comfortably for a week. But fresh air and a few moments of silence to compose himself were like a siren’s call he found hard to resist. “I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “Tonight, after dinner.”

“You’re going outside in the dark? Seriously?”

“Less chance to be caught.”

“Bigger chance to get lost and die in the forest,” Biggs retorted.

“Don’t be silly,” Luke said. “I’m not going to die in the forest. I’ll be gone an hour max and be back before you know it.”

Biggs sighed. “To each his own, I guess. I’ll cover for you, if anyone asks.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

“But you better come back. No one else can make my math homework for me.”

That evening he ran to the dormitory after dinner, grabbed his coat, and quickly left for the bathroom downstairs again. He went into a stall, kicked open the small window and squeezed through. Getting out was never the hard part. Coming back was, and braving the fear of discovery. You’d think that with a building full of children they wouldn’t miss him, but the staff were extremely effective in keeping them in line where they could see them at any time of the day. Nights weren’t an option either, as one of the caretakers made rounds of the dormitories at irregular intervals. Study time, which was now, just after dinner, was usually his best chance.

He made for the trees lining the nearly empty, concrete parking lot. Weeds shot up between the cracks and even in the dark Luke could see how old the building was. It had not always been an orphanage, but a convalescent home in better times, as he’d found out by a plaque by the main staircase. When people left this building full of hope, recovered and strong enough again to take on life at full force. It must have been beautiful, in the past. He could almost imagine it; the empty parking lot a garden, remnants of what must have been a stone arbour a reminder of those days, the stone arch above the grand front doors not crumbling, inside lots of light and smooth marble floors. Several windows were now boarded up after the glass panes had broken, some years ago. For a while Luke reminisced, until his thoughts automatically drifted to that ancient question that would probably stay with him all his life, no matter what happened: that of his origins. Who were they? Why didn’t his mother keep him? Was she unable to, or was she perhaps forced to give him up? He preferred the latter scenario. Perhaps she still thought of him too. And his father? Most likely his parents hadn’t been married, hadn’t even been a thing. Worst case scenario he carried the genes of a rapist, who’d left his mother broken and used behind after he’d done the deed. Why else had there been no mention of his father at all?

These weren’t happy thoughts, and he repeated the mantra he’d taught himself years ago several times in his head while he followed the trail between the trees, away from this hellhole: The past is the past. Just three more years and the sun will rise. The orphanage felt like a prison to him, and in a way it was. If not here, he and the other kids like him would probably be living on the streets, and street kids were not a desirable attribute to any city. There were no stars, it was too cloudy, but he could just make out the diffuse light of a sliver of the moon behind the veil of a dispersing cloud. He lay down on the rocky ground, not caring the ground was wet, and waited till he heard his heartbeat calm down, till its steady thrum also became the rhythm of his mind. Each time he came here, it seemed it took longer until he felt calm and levelheaded again. Luke was an introvert by nature, someone who shied away from large groups of people and felt most at home in a quiet environment. Solitude and silence were unfortunately the two things that were hardest to come by here. He slept in a dorm with thirty-nine other children in bunk beds. Even at night it was never quiet. At night he dreamt of what silence felt like, like a cool balm that brought peace to agitated skin.

He estimated he’d been here about three quarters of an hour, before he got up again to get back, reluctantly. He ran across the parking lot and climbed back through the window, left the toilet cubicle and moved silently through the corridors, back upstairs. When he entered the dormitory the lights were on. All the beds were occupied - except for his. Headmistress Mothma stood next to it. “Luke Piett. My office. Now,” she said, with a deadly calm.

 

***

 

He heard the alert just when he drained the pasta. His phone. He nearly dropped the pan of scalding hot water. Managed to put it safely back on the stove. “Hi,” he read. She was still typing. “Imagine my surprise at actually receiving a message from the great Anakin Skywalker” … “Unexpected indeed :) ” … “Never thought an up and coming pilot/adventurer like yourself would remember a stuffy academic like myself” … “I’m at a conference right now” … “Back in a few days” … “Let’s meet up then?”

“You’re not stuffy,” he texted back. “And it’s impossible to forget you” “Radiant as an angel :)” “I’d love to see you again. Let’s have dinner?”

“Friday?”

“Yes. Where shall I pick you up? Seven?”

Ahsoka entered the kitchen. “Dinner ready?” she asked.

“Yes. And I’ve got a date. With Padmé Amidala.”

“Ha! I told you so! Look at you smiling. You’ve really got the hots for her, don’t you?”

“No comment,” he said, his pretence at dignity failing utterly. “Get that parmesan from the fridge, will you?”

“Sir, yes sir. Parmesan coming up straight away,” Ahsoka mocked.

The meal that followed was unbearable for Anakin, who suffered under Ahsoka’s constant little triumphant smiles. After dinner he immediately left for the gym, and when he prolonged his run afterwards by taking a detour, he was shocked to feel his heart skip a beat when he suddenly noticed he incidentally ran past the bar where he’d met Padmé less than a week ago. They’d struck up a conversation while standing in line for drinks when Padmé’s friend had recognised him. She’d been embarrassed for her friend, and he’d been equally flustered when he looked her in the eyes. But for a whole different reason. She was an anthropologist, who took her work very seriously, constantly away for fieldwork, and writing when she wasn’t. Bars were not her natural habitat. Actually, they weren’t Anakin’s either, so their meeting was a coincidence indeed. Written in the stars. “Aren’t you a little tall for a pilot?” she’d asked, smiling. She was not wrong. Had the officer in charge at the day of his physical been in a bad mood, he could have been declared unfit to be a pilot due to his height. It was Tuesday now. Where should he take a woman like her out for dinner? Would she like Italian?

“All women like Italian,” Ahsoka said confidently. “Unless she hates carbs, of course. That’s a thing these days.”

“They have salads too,” he said unsure, and before he could change his mind again, crippled by doubts, he confirmed his reservation. The confirmation e-mail was his anchor for the rest of the week.

It was unfortunate that he had the week off. He busied himself by going to the gym - my body is my temple was an adagium he took very seriously - and his Instagram-account. One of the two shots he posted got a record number of likes. Was Padmé into him, he wondered. She seemed like the type who stayed unfazed over something as, come to think of it, frivolous as a man with perfect abs. He remembered how he towered over her, how small she was. It’d been tempting to embrace her and lock her in his arms. He could just throw her over his shoulder and travel across half the planet, show her the best mountain views, take her to the tallest waterfall. She couldn’t weigh more than a feather. “Adventurer,” she’d called him. Did she think him shallow, a thrill-seeker? Maybe she only agreed to this date because she was curious about him, or maybe not even him, but about the ultra sleek prototype fighter jets he flew, that cost the taxpayer millions. An academic like her was almost certainly voting left-wing, as did he, but was probably more principled, possibly even a pacifist to boot. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Hi!” she said.

She was, of course, beautiful. Her dress was simple, he didn’t see a trace of make-up, or wait, there it was, just a hint of mascara, no lipstick, and she shone like a sun. “Hi,” he replied, after a few seconds of silence, just a little too late. “Are you- You look beautiful, by the way. Ready to go?” He could swear he was blushing. God, how awful. Not even capable of forming a sentence. She probably thought he was stupid and flew a plane to compensate.

“Yes,” she said, her smile never letting up, “Let’s go.”

Turned out he shouldn’t have worried, she liked carbs just fine.

“Are you a vain man, Anakin?” she asked suddenly over her second glass of wine, a sparkle in her eye.

“Vain?” he asked, stopped short. “I… don’t know? I shower very quickly and don’t preen in front of the mirror.”

“I saw your Insta. I mean, everybody knows your Insta. Very nice pictures. And I bet you have a subscription to the gym.”

“I’m in the army! Of course I go to the gym. As for… the other thing. I just like taking pictures? It’s something I’m in control of. Something I can create, make a new world from what’s around me. You know?”

She nodded, a serious look in her eye. “I think I do. You’re not just a flyboy, are you? There’s a deeper layer.”

Now he was blushing. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I wanted to fly because it’d been a dream I had since I was a child. I like maths, but I’d always wanted wings. And understanding the subtleties of pressure, speed, and the engines separating you from certain death, gives the maths an edge. It’s like doing the calculations in real time, at breakneck speed. Bringing maths into practise. Every move is calculated. Those machines don’t just work by the grace of god.”

“Yes,” she said, “Seeing the world from a different perspective than just thinking about it from behind your desk.”

“Exactly!”

“Listen, Anakin,” she said, and there was something apologetic in her manner. “I… do like you. I really do. I had a great time with you tonight. You are an interesting young man, and sweet. But-”

He felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights, unable to move.

“I think you’re a little young for me.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” he said.

“Exactly. And I’m thirty-three. I know what I want from my career. I know what I’m looking for. I feel like you still have a world to conquer. I don’t think we’d work.”

“Don’t say that, Padmé. Please don’t say that,” he said quietly. “I know what you mean, but I disagree. I’m not out to conquer the skies. What I want is to get to know you better. If there’s one thing I know, it’s this. I feel like I have to know you, like we were meant to have each other in our lives. Like it’s fate, or something. I’m not just saying that, I’m not like that. Please. Give me a chance. Please.”

She didn’t reply, looked at him several long moments. “You really mean that,” she said.

“I do,” he answered earnestly.

They looked each other in the eyes, without speaking. After what seemed like an eternity, she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “All right. Let’s do this.”

He beamed. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, flyboy,” she laughed. “Are we going outside now, or did you plan to stay here for eternity? Come on.”

He paid the bill, and let her get into the car. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.

“Bear with me. You’ll see,” he said. They drove about twenty minutes, till they’d long left the last lights of town behind. “Over here,” he said, and he pulled over. There was only the sandy plains, stretching out for miles till the mountains broke the endless horizon. “Look,” he said. “You can see the Milky Way out here.” He wasn’t afraid anymore, or nervous now, and took her in his arms.

“You know, no one ever said to me what you told me, just then,” she said, “in the restaurant. About fate.”

They looked at the stars.

 

***

 

“What on earth were you thinking,” she said. It was impossible to comfortably look headmistress Mothma in the eyes, yet Luke found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her gaze, caught in the headlights. “Did you even listen to a single word I said the last time? Did you?” She didn’t shout, she never did, but she didn’t need to. She was easily the scariest woman he’d ever met, and part of the reason for that was her unpredictability. She always appeared unflappable, always, but when she addressed you with that neutral expression she might simply nod and say, “Carry on,” or just as well unexpectedly erupt into anger. And she didn’t look strong, but looks sure were deceptive. The sting of her slaps always caught him by surprise.

“Never mind that now,” she said agitated, “although we haven’t finished this discussion. A man came by. For you. He wanted to talk to you. Smart looking fellow, not the type that lives around here, that’s for certain. Imagine my delight at having to communicate we had… temporarily misplaced you.”

No one ever came to visit them here. “A man?” Luke asked, too distracted by this wholly unexpected turn of events to be careful anymore. One usually didn’t directly address the headmistress, unless it was to answer a question.

She raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. He carried your last name.”

Luke swallowed. It couldn’t have been his father, as he knew he had his mother’s name, considering the man who’d brought him here, all those years ago, was called Piett as well. Was it him? If so, why did he come back? Luke had always silently believed that he wouldn’t have lived here if he wasn’t a shameful secret that had to be stowed away, something that stood in the way of ordinary people wanting to pick up the thread of their lives again, and forget he ever happened. But if that was the case, he didn’t understand why he’d come back now, more than a decade later. Did he regret his decision? Did his sister, his mother? Perhaps she was dying, and she’d asked to see the son she’d given away one last time. His imagination was running wild, he almost forgot where he was.

Almost.

“Tell me… what have you been doing outside? Why do you keep on sneaking out? Causing trouble?”

She was nervous, Luke realised, about this unexpected visitor. Small blessings. “Nothing, really,” he said quietly. “I just like to be alone sometimes.”

She snorted. “Are you sure about that? No fishy business? If you’ve been talking, I’ll find out.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to anyone.”

She considered him for a moment. “Hmm. He said he’d be back. Though I wouldn’t hold out hope, if I were you.” Her continued staring at him was unnerving. He heard the ticking of the clock on the wall behind her and focussed on that instead. After twenty ticks, she waved her hand. “You can go for now. But this conversation isn’t over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, and shot up from his seat.

That night he couldn’t sleep, his thoughts frantically going in circles. Who was this Piett character?

 

***

 

It wasn’t his alarm clock. It was his phone ringing. Padmé. He groped for it in the dark, finally sliding to accept the call, just in time before he missed it, fumbling to bring his phone to his ear. “Hello?” he murmured.

“Hey… Did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, even though she couldn’t see it.

“O god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Different timezone eh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” They were quiet for a moment, simply listening to the other breathe.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fine. It’s cold up here. Hard to keep the old machine running. And by that I don’t mean the plane, but myself.”

She laughed. “You must be jealous then. Sunshine all day and pool weather over here. If only there was a pool.”

They’d been dating for several months now, and Anakin couldn’t get over how familiar it all felt. Even though they were often away from each other because of their respective jobs, it seemed like he’d never done anything else in his life than being in a relationship with Padmé Amidala. They were experts at this. It seemed like his words back then, during their first date, had carried a hint of prophecy in them.

“Listen, I’ll be back in two months,” he said. “I’ll have a few weeks of leave then. I have to visit my mother during that time, and take care of some things, but other than that I’m all yours. If you have time, that is?”

“I checked my schedule. I’ll be all yours,” she said. “I’m sorry for waking you. I’ll let you sleep. See you soon, baby.”

“Goodnight, babe.”

Anakin slept like a rose. As always, the alarm went off too early to his tastes. His hyper nutritious breakfast was a quick affair, after which he met Ahsoka in the hangar, who was already checking out the flight plans for the day.

“Fast and dangerous eh,” he said. “Just how I like it. Let’s see what these babies can do.”

She grinned at his enthusiasm. “Excellent. I was scared you’d stay napping all morning and I’d have to leave you behind,” she teased. “Padmé on the phone again last night?”

“So what?” he shot back, and then playtime was over. Play hard, work hard.

As he’d said that night on the phone, two months later Anakin came down from up north, but before he went to see Padmé, he kept his promise and made a detour to visit his mother. He didn’t often go there, though he missed her dearly enough. He preferred to fly her over to wherever he was, anything to postpone visiting his birthplace again. It was a small, provincial town, not much to look at and interchangeable with so many other small, provincial towns that had economically boomed at some point, but were now slowly sliding into recession as industries changed and the people did not. Still, it wasn’t as bad here as it was in many other places. They had Palpatine’s factories to thank for that.

Speaking of…

“Hello, Sheev. Didn’t expect you here,” Anakin greeted courteously as he spotted him upon entering his mother’s home. The old man was sitting at the kitchen table and looked sorely out of place in the small room with its simple furnishings. “Where’s my mother?”

“Oh, she’ll be coming back soon, my boy. Just doing a quick errand, I believe she ran out of milk. Tell me, how have you been?”

“I’ve been very well. And yourself?”

“Can’t complain. Age gets us all sooner or later, and is definitely catching up with me, but I can’t complain, really. Enough about me, you didn’t come here to hear from an old man. Tell me about your life. I want to hear it all.”

And so Anakin did tell it all, though he carefully edited Padmé out. He was genuinely grateful for the opportunities Palpatine had given him - he wouldn’t be where he was today without him - but the old man’s attentions always had something possessive.

“I heard you’re seeing a young lady,” he said suddenly, when Anakin was quiet for a moment.

“Yes,” he said, mildly surprised, though he shouldn’t be by know. He’d noticed in the past that the old man kept tabs on him. “Her name’s Padmé. How did you know?”

“Ah… The grapevine. You are a bit of a celebrity these days, my boy,” he chuckled, and then turned serious immediately after. “Is that wise, Anakin? For someone in your position, at this stage in your life? There’ll be plenty of time for romance later, when you’re not at the peak of your career, I’m sure.”

“I… I don’t think Padmé’s a distraction,” he said carefully.

“Forgive an old man’s worries, Anakin. I simply fear you may become preoccupied, and not notice her interference with your life. For a man of your qualities, it would be a great pity if a woman thwarted the undoubtedly great opportunities that lie ahead of you.”

“I know the limits and boundaries of my duties,” Anakin answered, getting annoyed really fast. “Having a relationship isn’t one of them.”

“I didn’t claim it was! Oh, you misunderstand me. I simply worry… I heard she’s a bit older than you are. And you know what they say of women that age. Their biological clocks start ticking. They start hunting, for the optimal genetic material, if you catch my drift. Children would… impede you.”

Anakin didn’t know what to say to that for a moment, but was spared the embarrassment of having to formulate an answer by his mother entering the kitchen, calling out his name enthusiastically upon seeing her son. He embraced her, the heavy atmosphere in the room slowly melting away under her warm welcome.

Palpatine stood up. “I should be going. You will be here for a few more days, Anakin? Perhaps you should visit my offices. There’s a great many things I’d like to discuss with you. I always value your insights, and I have my eye on a new investment you especially could advise me in.”

“I’ll be here only briefly,” Anakin said.

“Oh, nonsense,” his mother interjected. “Of course he’ll come by, Sheev. Would the day after tomorrow suit you?”

“Certainly. I can always clear a slot in my agenda for Anakin,” he said smiling. “Now, dear Schmi, I must be off. Do enjoy the rest of your weekend together. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on.”

“Thank you for stopping by, as always,” his mother said warmly. “We are always grateful for your company.”

Anakin sat down at the kitchen table after he’d left. “Mom,” he said, “Why are you so compliant with his wishes? He doesn’t own us.”

She sighed. “I’m aware, Anakin. But part of me is always afraid of what could happen to your future without his blessing. Even though maybe I shouldn’t be anymore.”

“Men like him don’t really care about people like us, mom. Not really. I mean, if he did, he wouldn’t keep you in a position that made you dependant of him. He controls you through me, and me through you. He owns this entire town. I’m sick of his trying to control my destiny.”

“You’re upset,” Schmi said, concerned, and she took her son’s hand in hers. “What happened between you two?”

“He knew about Padmé,” Anakin said quietly. He’d told his mother about her on the phone, and it had been a happy conversation. He loathed to bring up the tense moments from before she came home now, but he told her everything. Schmi kept a neutral expression, but Anakin knew his mother well enough to recognise she was worried.

“He is an old man, my son,” she said carefully. “And I don’t think he has much else than you. Perhaps he’s simply afraid to lose you.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked incredulously. “Seriously, the moment he thinks I’m useless to him, he’ll drop me. I’m just a potential tool to him. You warned me not to trust him when I was just a child, to always think for myself.”

Schmi sighed. “You are probably right,” she said, downcast. “I’m just worried. Don’t upset him unnecessarily.”

“I won’t,” Anakin sighed. “But I’m obviously not breaking up with Padmé. Why does he care anyway.”

“He has always stressed how important it is you do well in your career now,” Schmi said. “That might be all there is to it.”

Anakin nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps,” he said eventually. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Now,” his mother said after a few moments of silence. “Show me your pictures. And tell me everything about her.”

He smiled. “You’ll love her, I’m sure of it,” he said.

 

***

 

Time passed. Anakin and Padmé celebrated their one year anniversary. “I can’t believe I’ve known you for just one year,” she said. “I forgot what it was like before, in a way, but I can never get enough at the same time.” He felt exactly the same. Although Anakin had insisted, his mother refused to move and leave his childhood town. Though he was perfectly capable of supporting her, she didn’t want to hear of it, a fact he deeply regretted, because he’d prefer to have her close and hated it that she still kept a job in that blasted factory. Although Anakin officially still housed with Ahsoka, he spent most of his time at Padmé’s place. Just a few weeks ago Palpatine had visited him there, unannounced. Padmé had been her usual gracious self, but he’d barely spared her a glance.

There had been a shouting match, and Anakin hadn’t been in touch with him since then. He hoped to keep it that way, but the knowledge that his mother was in his reach made him deeply uncomfortable. She felt she didn’t belong in any other kind of life than the one she’d always known, however, and Anakin didn’t want to force her. In her own way, she was happy there.

“Are you finally going to admit I’m right?” Ahsoka asked. Ever since she met Palpatine, she had hated him and Anakin had to admit, she had keen instincts when it came to human nature.

“No. Your ego is inflated enough as it is,” he replied.

“Hear, hear! Pot, kettle, Skyguy.”

“I’d be careful if I were you. You do still want to come to dinner tonight, right?”

“Shutting up straight away! Seven, right?”

He nodded. “I have to run now. Padmé’s going to kill me if I haven’t done the groceries by the time she gets home.”

“Yes, yes, run along now. You’ve taken up enough of my time as it is.” Ahsoka waved her hand in the direction of the door, and focussed on her laptop again. If flying was her greatest passion, then games were her religion whenever the sky wasn’t available.

When he came home Padmé was already there, uncharacteristically early.

“Anakin!” She looked flustered, as if he’d caught her at something.

“Hey babe. What’s up? You’re home early.”

“Anakin! I - you surprised me. That’s all.” Was it just him or were her eyes shiny, as if she’d been crying? “No, wait. I’m not going to… I didn’t want to do it like this, I wanted to take my time to tell you and handle this like an adult, be calm and collected, but we can both see I’m failing miserably at that,” she said, pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other. “Obviously.”

“Erm… Okay? Whatever it is, you’re doing great,” he said, putting the bags of groceries on the counter as he approached her.

“I’m pregnant.” She stood still and looked at him intently.

He didn’t answer immediately, noticed distantly that his hands were shaking. The blood rushed to his head and the room seemed drained of sound, as if the outside world had retreated for the time being and left the two of them here alone, far away from everything else, in a microcosm shaped just for this occasion. “Pregnant?” he repeated. “You mean - a baby?” She nodded. “We were so careful,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it,” he said, “that this is happening to us. What did we do to deserve this?” “I’m sorry, Anakin,” - and that’s when he noticed she looked really distressed.

“No… No! I meant that in a good way! In the best way possible! I just can’t believe - I mean, is this real?”

She nodded.

“O babe,” he went over to her and engulfed her in his arms. “You must know that nothing makes me happier. We’ll make this work and be totally and utterly in love with our child. And with each other. We can do this. I promise.” He smiled.

“But the timing is the worst! I don’t know how we’ll be able to handle this! You’re all over the place all the time, and so am I! We live in different timezones at least six months out of twelve!”

“I can quit my job. I can go back to mathematics. We’ll figure something out.”

“You can’t quit your job! Those jets are your life. You excel at what you do. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just saying… I would if I had to. For you. And the baby. Don’t worry. We have nine months to think of the future.”

She nodded, still looking miserable.

“Padmé… Do you want this baby?” he asked carefully.

She began to cry, not quietly and contained, but with real sobs. He’d never seen her like that before. “I’m scared, just so scared. I don’t know how we’ll do this. My body’s going to change, I’m going to change, we’ve been together only a year. What’s going to happen to us?”

He held her tightly. “I don’t know. But we’ll be fine. I’m sure of that. You love me, right? And I love you. Nothing can change that. Let’s be happy now, let’s enjoy this moment. I promise you one thing: nothing’s going to come between us and this baby. I swear.”

 

***

 

Luke woke up with a start. He’d been dreaming, but he couldn’t remember what. Something was about to happen, he was sure of it. He listened intently, but heard nothing but the snores of his dorm mates and the wind whistling about the draughty building. Something would happen, soon.

 

***

 

He had another voicemail, the fifth one in just as many days. Palpatine. He deleted it promptly, annoyed, and just as he did so his phone rang again. His fingers busy on the screen, anticipating their next move, he incidentally pressed the green button. Anakin briefly considered not answering anyway, but brought the phone to his ear in the end, his mother’s voice in his head - be nice, don’t provoke. “Hello?”

“Anakin, my boy! It’s so good to hear from you. I realise we didn’t part on the best of terms last time, but I really need to speak to you. Are you available right now?”

“I’m - at home,” he said cautiously.

“Yes, yes! Perfect. My driver will be there in fifteen minutes, I thought we could talk at my hotel, which is just half an hour’s drive from where you are.”

“I don’t think-”

“It’s no bother at all, don’t worry. I’ll see you in a bit, yes?”

The line went dead before he had the chance to answer. True to his word, thirteen minutes and forty seconds later a car appeared up the driveway, black, tinted windows - the whole package. Reluctantly Anakin went outside and got in the car, briefly considering Ahsoka’s words - “That man is evil!” - and he wondered why the hell he let himself be played like this. He was so sick of these staged encounters.

The car moved smoothly and without a sound, and the driver didn’t say a word. He was of the type who’s facial expressions had been chiselled away into a perfect, blank mask, which made him excellent at this job.

Palpatine awaited him in a royally set up suite. “Anakin! You made it!” he exclaimed, and made a show of not exactly embracing him and patting his shoulder instead. A casual onlooker would have seen a warm and heartfelt hug. The man was nothing if not an amazing actor. “Please! Sit down! Can I offer you some refreshments?”

He declined. “What’s so urgent, Sheev?” he asked. “I saw you tried to call me several times the past few days.”

“I was in the neighbourhood, and that doesn’t happen all that often. And, of course, I wanted to offer my sincere apologies after our bad parting last time. I hope it will not overshadow our relationship - especially now in the face of the happy event.”

Anakin must have looked confused, because Palpatine elaborated. “A child, of course! Congratulations. It’s a bit soon, perhaps, but nevertheless, I can only imagine you must be thrilled.”

“Yes,” he finally brought out. “Yes, we are. We’re very happy.”

“Have you… figured out how you’ll handle your professional situation?” Palpatine asked, full of concern.

“Not yet,” Anakin replied, dazed. “But we’ve got time.”

“Yes.” Palpatine nodded, “Yes. You do. Listen. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… And no! - don’t worry - I’m not going to preach to you, my boy. I’m an old man who sometimes forgets how fast time flies, who can barely keep up with the escapades of youth. But I may have a solution for your situation, and you’d be doing me a service at the same time.”

“Okay?”

“I know you love your planes, the skies. I can only imagine what it feels like to fly at top speed, test out the newest technologies to the limit of their capability. You did in fact inspire me. To… invest. That’s where I get my adrenaline.” He smiled thinly. “As things stand, you’ll be testing out my creation in a few weeks time. Or, well, ‘my creation’ is a bold statement, I admit, but I did have a hand in how it came to be. I believe it’ll be to your liking. It was designed with you in mind. And it would mean the world to me if you appreciated my efforts, if you get what I mean.”

Anakin was quiet for a while. “Do you mean… to forge test results?”

“If you put it that way… It sounds utterly despicable, of course. I understand you take pride in what you do, and that you’re not the only one to fly. But I know that your word means a great deal, and you won’t be disappointed. It might of course also mean a very interesting commission for you, if you’re interested, in the private sector. That would allow you to have a hand in the improvement of these jets, to do what you like, when you like, without anyone telling you where to go next and when to get up in the mornings. I suppose the pay is probably more substantial as well. Consider it.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Anakin said. “That goes against everything I swore to uphold. You’re asking me to commit fraud. I could report you right now.”

“I don’t think you’ll do that, Anakin. I only have your best interests in mind. You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure-” he said slowly.

“Anakin. Didn’t I help you every step of the way? Didn’t I get you to where you are today? Do you realise what’s at stake here?” He looked every bit the caring, fumbling grandfather, who wasn’t aware of the gravity of what he was proposing at this very moment.

“I can’t deny that, of course, but you’re asking me the impossible. I didn’t take this job to get you the contracts you desire, I worked years to reach this point. Gave up everything. And you’re asking me to not take that seriously? To possibly even put people’s lives in danger? For what? Money?”

“I think you have the wrong priorities when it comes to taking things seriously,” Palpatine said. “I know who you are. I know everything about you. I could destroy you.” He spoke slowly and deliberately now, the room seemed to have darkened all of a sudden, the air became hard to breathe. He left no room for misinterpretation. “I made you. I can also break you. You’re expecting a child. You’re getting married. Think about it.”

“No,” Anakin said. “No. I could never live with myself. How can you ask this of me. Of anyone. Out of respect for you and what you did for me and my mother I won’t report you, even though I should, but what you asked of me right now will not happen. I’ll forget this conversation ever took place, if you leave me alone from now on.”

“Oh no, Anakin. This game isn’t over. I’d recommend you think very deeply about your brave and bold words of just now,” Palpatine spat. “You seem to be confused over who holds the cards here. Well, let me enlighten you: despite what you may believe, it isn’t you. People like you never do. Be reasonable. I’m not asking for much. And careful, my friend: the wrong decision could cost you dearly. Very dearly.” He smiled. “And you have a lot at stake now, don’t you. More than just your life, I’d dare say.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for this chapter: Mieczysław Weinberg - Concerto for Cello and Orchestra in C minor (Opus 43)

There was a certain restlessness in the air, and it was contagious; the walls were whispering, everyone seemed to be in a bad mood, cagey, jittery. Luke had noticed it at first at breakfast. The staff were talking to each other in hushed whispers, an angry kind of excitement hovered around them. It took until lunch for the rumours to have reached the children. Someone had moved to the empty house outside town by the forest, a gentleman who was apparently of some standing, smart and rich. In other words: the exact opposite of the people living here, for whom poverty was a permanent condition, that was accepted with resignation, like one learned to live with a skin condition or autoimmune disease. And that caused suspicion and resentment. Luke wondered why someone like that would ever move here, and what he’d expect - what he’d expect of the townspeople. His curiosity was sparked.

Almost a week had gone by now and the mysterious Piett hadn’t visited again. Luke had been on edge ever since that unexpected visit to the headmistress’ office, he hadn’t dared to leave the building again for fear of missing out on something happening, something that would occur only if he was present. But now the seed of his old wanderlust bloomed again. He knew vaguely where that house was, knew he could probably find it again if he had time enough. It was probably a boyish drift for adventure that drove him, in addition for his search for a cure against the constant maelstrom of scenarios running through his head, about why Piett had visited. Who he was. What that meant for him, what it said about who he was. Luke had never before spent time thinking about his genetic code and what character traits he might carry inside him, sleeper agents over which he had no conscious control, but it seemed that the visit of the man who may be linked to his ancestry had opened something up. The blood that now steadily pulsed out of the gaping wound that was his heart was impossible to stem. He barely slept at night, and felt either frantic or depressed. A distraction was most welcome. But there was something else driving his curiosity: this man who’d just moved here represented something from a world Luke didn’t know, but dreamed of. Someone with an education. Who knew the ways of the world beyond the eternal fog enveloping this dreary place, who didn’t have to think up his own stories about what lay beyond this town, because he knew.

Perhaps he was also emboldened by his lucky escape from the headmistress’ wrath, because of his unknown uncle Piett’s visit - if that man even really was his uncle, another scenario he’d considered - but this is what happened: that very evening he left the building and followed the trail between the trees immediately, running, with the intention to cover ground, because he’d need some time to find the old house and it wasn’t exactly around the corner. He needed to see that man. Everything in his life seemed to stay at a standstill, so it was time that he enforced something to happen. He wanted to see who it was that was keeping everyone entranced and talking, witness personally what all the fuss was about, instead of listening to third-hand stories. It was pitch black dark in the forest, but Luke wasn’t afraid. Here, between the trees, he felt more at home than at the orphanage. He had no watch, nor would he have had the presence of mind to keep track of the time if he had had one right now, but if’d been asked afterwards how long it had taken him to find the old house, he’d have said twenty minutes. In reality, it was more than an hour. It looked as abandoned as when he’d first seen it, years ago. He hadn’t really paid attention to it then - abandoned houses were not that rare here - but now he sure did. It was smaller than he’d thought, based on the stories that were currently going the rounds, though not by any means small. A car was parked in front of it, and not a standard model you saw parked on an average street, but the kind Luke had only ever seen in movies or magazines; a luxury off-road SUV. A practical choice for a wild region like this one, but also outrageously expensive. The windows on this side of the house were all dark; except for the car, he saw no indication that it was inhabited. Perhaps he was asleep, Luke thought, but he rejected that idea immediately. It was still early, too early for a grown man who didn’t have to get up early in the mornings to go to bed. Staying close to the trees, Luke edged around the house, looking for a sign of life. Just when disappointment began settling in, he noticed something that _was_ out of the ordinary: he saw a faint light coming from inside the house, that could be from a reading light perhaps, but he’d have to get closer to be sure. Excited Luke ran to the house, half crouched, in a ridiculous attempt to be inconspicuous. It didn’t matter, there was no one around to see him anyway. He stood pressed against a wall, if he peeked around the corner he could just see that window: there was a light on in that room, and he was sure there was someone inside. Why, he couldn’t say, it was just a hunch, but a very strong hunch. If he dared to get closer, he could probably steal a glance at the room’s occupant, all he had to do was run around the corner, bend down next to the window, and then take a look. Drawback: there was also a chance of the other seeing him. From where he was standing now, he wasn’t getting any wiser. He saw the shadow of a large piece of furniture on the part of the wall he could see, probably a bookcase, and that was it. Luke was torn. On the one hand, he didn’t come out all this way to return with nothing, but on the other hand, he was trespassing on the land of someone he knew nothing about, at night in the middle of a dark forest where no one ever came, and if Camie’s disappearance had taught him one thing, it was this: no one really cared when children like him went missing. While he stood there, indecisive, it began to rain, first a few tentative drops, but within seconds it had turned into a steady downpour. He’d be soaking wet within a minute. He decided he had nothing to lose, and driven by that thought he sprinted around the corner, moving like a shadow, fast and light, stopped next to the window and quickly looked inside. And stared right into the eyes of the house’s new inhabitant. Luke screamed. One thing the stories hadn’t mentioned: it was not a man living here. It was a monster.

He ran for it, as fast as his legs could carry him. All the lights in the house were now on. He heard a shout, but didn’t look back and continued to run - almost at the edge of the forest, almost by the safety and invisibility of the trees. It had been a terrible idea to come here. One very confusing second later he lay face down in the mud, that had quickly formed under the steady rain, and a sharp pain spread through his leg. Now, belatedly, he understood what that sound had been, that dry, deafening crack. He’d been shot. Too flabbergasted by this turn of events and scared of the unfamiliar pain shooting through his leg, he didn’t even try to get up, but simply lay there, trying to process this strange and terrible invasion of his body. I’m dying, he thought. He heard footsteps coming closer, and then a voice, slightly hoarse and quite deep, cursing. “You’re a bloody child! Oh fuck this.” He cursed again, kneeled down next to Luke. Luke couldn’t see the man’s face properly now, it was obscured by the night’s shadows. Carefully he touched Luke’s leg, assessing the damage. “What on earth were you doing down here in the dark, what’s wrong with you? Good god… Never mind that now. We’ll discuss that inside. Do you think you can get up?” 

It took a moment before Luke found his voice. “I don’t know,” he said, and he hated himself for the quiver in it, but he seemed unable to stop it. 

The stranger sighed. “Don’t be scared now. I’m not going to kill you, or punish you or… whatever your mind’s concocting right now. We’ll go inside, dry you off, talk about this, and get you home. Nothing else. I’ll carry you, but you’ll have to get up first. I can’t pick you up from this position. All right?” 

Luke nodded timidly. The stranger stood up first, clumsily. He groaned when he pushed himself off of the ground and straightened to his full height. He was tall, very tall. Then he stuck out his hand to Luke, and pulled him up in one go, effortlessly. He picked him up and began the trek back to the house. 

Inside it was warm, and only then Luke noticed he was shivering. The stranger sat him down on a huge black leather couch, and left the room. When he came back he carried a first aid kit and a box of tissues, which he handed to Luke. “You’re crying. You’re in shock.” He pulled up a chair, sat down and picked up Luke’s leg. He rolled up the pant leg and inspected the bleeding wound closely. “It was never my intention to seriously harm you, leave alone kill you. But I had to pass on a message - can’t allow strangers to creep up on me in my own home. I hadn’t expected a child. Trust me, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have shot. I’m really sorry you had to experience that. It’s a graze. Nothing serious, but you should have it looked at by a doctor tomorrow. What were you doing out here, alone, in the dark?”

The stranger didn’t sound angry. He spoke calmly, and it slowly began to have a positive effect on Luke. Now he was inside a house where it was warm and light, the man who was currently tending to his leg didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was not… good-looking, in fact, Luke found it hard to look at him at all, but he didn’t seem as monstrous as he had before. His head was bald, and angry scars disfigured most of his face. Burns, some faraway part of Luke’s brain registered. His left hand was affected as well, the skin felt unnaturally smooth, not as supple as it should, against his bare leg. When he worked up the courage to look up again he startled a second time. The man’s eyes were wholly normal, entirely human - Luke didn’t know what else he’d expected - and very, very blue. “I was just curious about who’d moved in here,” he said quietly. Suddenly he was overcome by an overpowering, crushing wave of shame. What had he hoped to find here in the first place? A rich man, educated, who’d welcome him warmly and offered to make everything in his life better? Those were children’s tales. He should know better. Even worse was the realisation how quickly he’d judged the man currently taking care of him unfit - unable to meet those qualifications he’d mentally listed: rich, smart, highly educated, caring - based on nothing more but his appearance. He’d thought him a monster. Most people probably reacted that way, but something terrible must have happened to him, Luke realised. People weren’t born this way, were they?

“And curiosity cannot be satisfied by daylight?” the stranger asked.

“I… wasn’t supposed to come here.”

“Hmm…” He continued his work in silence. 

Perhaps he thought Luke had been warned away from him, because of what he looked like, that already people were telling horrible stories about him, and Luke felt the need to reassure him somehow that that wasn’t the case. “I’m not allowed into the woods,” he offered.

The man sitting opposite him looked up. Something that might have been a smile briefly flickered across his face, but Luke couldn’t be sure. It was hard to tell, not only because of his ruined features, but he had an air of reservedness surrounding him. He looked Luke in the eye, an eternity, it felt like. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from that piercing, blue-eyed gaze, and as the seconds ticked by, he felt something shifting inside him. This was not a man he should fear, he felt, however weird that was, considering this stranger had just shot a gun at him, but he fully believed he could trust him in that moment.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“Luke,” he answered.

“Luke,” the stranger repeated, and again something seemed to happen in that face. “That’s a good name,” he added finally. “I’m Vader.”

“That’s a… strange name,” Luke blurted out. 

This time the stranger - Vader - definitely smiled, laughed even. “I suppose it might sound strange to you. I dressed your wound. It will hurt a while, I’m afraid, and you really should have it checked out by a medical professional, but it will heal nicely. Now, where do you live?”

Luke looked at his hands. “In the orphanage, at the edge of town,” he mumbled. 

Vader’s expression remained neutral. “Your parents, they d-”

“I don’t know,” Luke quickly interjected, not wanting to hear the D-word. “I don’t know who they are.” It was a question that often plagued him: if he preferred them to be dead, or alive. He didn’t know which one was worse. That he’d never met them and would never find out anything about them, or that they were alive and simply didn’t want to be bothered by a son.

“I’m sorry. That was completely tactless. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business,” Vader said quickly. He appeared a little flustered. “My social skills are quite lacking, these days. You’re still soaking wet, and muddy. I can wash your clothes. I don’t have anything that will even remotely fit you, but at least you’ll be dry. Give me a minute.” He disappeared from the room. 

Luke looked around him. The house was beautiful. Tall bookcases lined several walls, the couch he sat on was elegant, an enormous television screen was mounted against the far wall, without taking over the room. The room was large and spacious; despite the size of the pieces of furniture, Vader could easily host a cocktail party in here. He probably didn’t though. Still, it didn’t feel empty. He returned, carrying a shirt and sweater, and a pair of shorts. 

“Put these on. I promise I won’t look,” and he left the room again. It was quite a struggle to change with a bad leg, but he managed. It hurt a lot, though. When he dropped down on the couch again, Luke felt how exhausted he was, as if he’d run a marathon. He almost closed his eyes…

“Here,” Vader said, coming back from what must be the kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs. “Tea. It will warm you up.” Luke wondered why a man whose privacy he had invaded was being so nice to him, but he accepted gratefully. 

“They must be worried about you,” Vader said. “It’s quite a long way from here to the orphanage, you must have been gone a long time by now.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“It _is_ late, Luke. Perhaps I should drive you back tomorrow and you should stay the night. I’ll call them you’re here. It’s not ideal, but you look dead on your feet and should probably just sleep now.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said quietly. “I’m really sorry I sneaked up on you. I don’t want to burden you further, I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. You’re staying the night. My decision is made. Unless you can walk back now?” Vader asked sarcastically. 

Luke grimaced. 

“Good. There’s a spare room upstairs, but you don’t look like you’ll be climbing any stairs today. You’ll have to sleep on the couch, I’m afraid.”

“That’s all right,” Luke said, feeling awkward in this beautiful room on this beautiful couch, worried he’d somehow blemish it with his presence alone.

Vader left the room again and came back with blankets and two pillows. When Luke was installed, he put one of the pillows underneath his bad leg. Luke had never slept in a bed so soft and comfortable before, and from the moment Vader turned the lights off and left the room, he fell asleep. He didn’t dream. Vader, on the other hand, in the room at the back of the house, lay awake for hours. Yes, it appeared something _had_ happened after all, and everything had changed irrevocably now. 

 

***

 

It took a moment before Luke remembered where he was and what had happened the night before when he woke up. Normally, he woke up because of the noise of thirty-something dorm mates. It was quiet now, he didn’t hear a single sound. No, that wasn’t correct - there were noises from an adjacent room. He sat up, swung his legs to the ground. His right lower leg still hurt, just as acutely as yesterday. Strange that it hadn’t bothered him at night. He got up, tested his leg out, came to the conclusion that he probably shouldn’t put his entire weight on it. His own clothes lay folded and dry on the nearby coffee table. It was strange to think of Vader having seen him sleep, that a man with such a large frame had moved through the room quietly enough for Luke to have continued to sleep. After he’d put them on, he half limped, half hopped in the direction of the sounds, and found himself in the doorway to a kitchen. Vader was… making breakfast, by the looks of it. Seeing such an otherworldly man doing such mundane tasks didn’t look right, somehow. He was already fully dressed for the day, including a pair of heavy boots.

“Hi,” Luke said tentatively.

“Good morning. Did you manage to sleep? How’s that leg?”

“Yeah. I slept great. It didn’t bother me at all.”

“Excellent. I gave you a painkiller with your tea last night. Do you think you need another one?”

“Oh,” he said, dumbfounded. “It’s - it’s all right. I’m fine.”

“Do you always say you’re fine when you’re obviously not?” Vader inquired mildly. “Sit,” and he pointed at a large dining table, made from the same dark wood as most furniture. 

Luke sat down, the easy rapport they’d briefly established last night gone again. He felt decidedly out of place. Breakfast was delicious, piping hot, crusty bread on the side, possibly the best thing he’d ever had.

“Ready to get back?” Vader asked.

Luke nodded. As he got up, Vader looked at him strangely. “Do you… need help?” he asked. Luke stubbornly shook his head and slowly followed him out. The car was great and brought his enthusiasm back to the surface for a moment, which seemed to amuse Vader, but as they neared the orphanage, Luke started brooding again. He could only imagine what kind of punishment Mothma would come up with, his absence and the circumstances of his return might well be the worst infraction ever committed under her watchful eye - and hands. 

“Who’s in charge of this institution?” Vader asked when they’d arrived. He took in the building and the nearly empty parking lot. It looked even shabbier by daylight.

“Headmistress Mothma,” Luke replied.

“Let’s go see her then.”

“You’re coming in?” Luke asked surprised.

“Of course,” was all Vader supplied him with. He wore a hat with a wide brim, partially obscuring his face from view. From a distance you couldn’t see anything was wrong with him now, he was taller than most, perhaps, made quite the impression in that sense, and definitely better dressed than the average man in these parts. “Lead the way,” he said.

When they stood in front of Mothma’s office, Luke gestured to the door, holding back. “Here we are,” he uselessly added. Vader raised his brow at his obviously less than enthusiastic manner, and in the end knocked at the door himself.

“Enter,” rang out Mothma’s level voice. 

Vader’s frame at first hid Luke from view, but when he hobbled after the tall man and came in her line of view, he actually saw her eyes become larger.

“Well well well,” she said. “Look what the cat dragged in. You, Luke Piett, seem to visit my office too often these days, and for less than ideal reasons.”

“He should probably sit down,” Vader interrupted. “I shot him in the leg yesterday.”

“I’m sorry?” Mothma said. She appeared to be at a loss what to do with this information. “You…”

“Shot him, yes,” Vader supplied helpfully, adopting a pleasant tone as if discussing the weather. “He should see a doctor. But excuse me, where are my manners. I’m Vader,” he stuck out his hand. “Luke here, got a little lost yesterday, I got a little hotheaded.”

“Headmistress Mothma,” she replied, and she shook his hand. “I’m so sorry, sir. We received your phone call yesterday evening and were of course terribly worried. I’m so sorry your move to this town must be hindered by this… incident. Please accept my sincerest apologies and I assure you such a thing will not happen again. I-”

As Vader took off his hat, Luke could clearly see her swallow.

“Of course, we’ll do anything within our means to compensate you for the trouble,” her voice faltered and she backpedaled, behind her desk.

“Yes,” Vader said slowly, and he sat down in the chair next to Luke’s. Even when sitting, he easily dominated the room. “It’s good that you mention this. My house and garden are rather big for a man alone to maintain.”

“Yes?” Mothma said, sounding eager to please.

“Perhaps the boy can make himself useful in the weekends. It would be a fitting punishment. I have business elsewhere on Saturday mornings. I will collect him afterwards, and return him when he’s done his share of work.”

“Sir, it is against regulations for the children to-”

“You would do anything you could to compensate me, I believe?” he said calmly.

“Within our means…” she protested feebly.

“Would you rather I made a case out of this? Leaving children unattended out in the woods at night sounds like neglect to me.”

“Of course not. No. Perhaps we can arrange something, yes. He’ll be waiting for you coming Saturday.”

“Good. And make him see a doctor. He is useless to me damaged.”

“Of course. Again, my sincerest apologies.”

“Apology accepted.” He stood up and made to shake Mothma’s hand, but she took a hasty step backwards and almost tripped in doing so. He inclined his head at Luke and pointed at him. “See you Saturday, young one.” And then he was gone. 

Luke had no idea what had just happened, but it appeared a way had found him to spend his weekends from now on. 

 

***

 

“Where have you been?” Biggs asked. “Everyone’s been talking about it.”

Luke lay on his bed and had been forbidden to move the coming few days by the doctor. Vader had been correct: it was only a graze, but the surrounding tissue had taken a hit. Biggs had immediately volunteered to bring Luke his lunch, dinner and homework.

“I went exploring?” he answered. He noticed he felt a certain reluctance to discuss Vader, but it was useless. His exit from the building had not gone unnoticed.

“You went to his house?” Biggs whispered, even though they were all alone in the dormitory. 

“Ah… Yes,” Luke said, and he raked his hand through his hair - a nervous habit he’d been trying to get rid of for ages. 

“You’re crazy. Tell me everything. I saw his car. Awesome man! You’ve been in that car? What’s his house like? What did he do to you?”

“He erm… he shot me,” Luke said, aware of the dramatic effect that statement would have.

“No way!” Biggs exclaimed. “So he shot you, kept you prisoner for the night and then returned you to Mothma? Holy shit!”

Deprived of anything of interest ever happening here, the story went around like wildfire and became crazier with every retelling. Usually, the staff, under direction of Mothma, fairly quickly managed to neutralise stories that had the potential of becoming something of a myth here, and could undermine the strict day to day rhythm, but this time they were remarkably quiet, and so Vader had become half a meter taller, his voice thunderous, his house bigger and containing a cellar functioning as a dungeon, his riches unimaginable, his spirit evil, within less than twenty-four hours. And Luke, having survived an encounter with the dragon himself, had either become sacred or a pariah. The line between the two was always very thin, and it seemed the student body hadn’t decided which way it would go just yet. Stories like these bound people together, so even though Luke might turn out to be the victim of his own adventure, it seemed he had done something good here. And because his head was in the clouds - or on a completely different plane, more accurately - at the moment, and he didn’t care all that much about his social status right now, he saw it happening, and approved. 

By Friday he could get up independently without his leg hurting too much, and walk short distances. He was unsure of what Vader wanted of him. He didn’t seem the type to appreciate human company, though he had, in all fairness, been very nice, much nicer than he had any right to be considering the circumstances, and the house hadn’t looked like it needed an extra hand. Luke wasn’t scared, definitely nervous, most of all… jittery. His inability to understand the current situation did a number on his nerves, though he couldn’t really explain why. 

The headmistress had steered clear of him the past few days as if he suffered from a contagious disease, but on Saturday morning she did come to check on him. She stood by the entrance of his dorm room, and looked at him very pointedly. “Outside, you,” she mouthed, from the other side of the room, and that’s how he came to sit outside by the parking lot, alone, on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting, at ten in the morning. It was mid-November now, and any day winter could arrive. It was late for the time of year, actually. The autumn fog was quickly becoming colder, the clouds were not seeking to commune with the treetops anymore, the skies were white. Frost and snow were waiting at the doorstep. Luke loved the winter. Snow disguised the landscape surrounding him, it lend a magical atmosphere to the building even, it isolated, and let silence finally take its rightful place. 

It wasn’t freezing yet, but it sure was cold, still, he didn’t dare to move from his spot. A car - not just any car, he recognised it immediately - pulled up around half past eleven. “Good lord, you’re frozen,” Vader said, as Luke climbed in. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Ten?” Luke said, teeth chattering. 

“Seriously?” Vader asked, and his honest surprise made Luke laugh. 

“Yeah, of course. She’s not going to risk… your wrath. And I don’t mind, I’m okay, really.” Seeing that strange face again briefly shocked him to the core at first, just like it had before when he’d first lain eye on Vader’s mangled features, but he got used to it very quickly, now and then stealing glances at him from under his bangs.

And then they were quiet, not entirely sure why they were sitting next to each other now, and what to do or how to relate to each other. Luke was warming up, the car wonderfully warm, and he sank down into the ridiculously comfortable leather of his seat, that was slightly heated as well. 

“Are you okay?” Vader asked at some point. 

“Yeah,” Luke said, but his voice broke. All this was confusing him. “Why did you - do this? What do you want of me?”

They pulled up at the driveway of Vader’s house. He didn’t answer. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, motioning for Luke to follow him as he got out. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he finally answered Luke’s question, once they were inside. “I don’t really need your help, as I’m sure you figured out already. I’m not even sure what to do with you now you’re here. I guess… I didn’t like the idea of you being subjected to the sweet mercies of that woman. Thought you could use a break.”

“I don’t need pity,” Luke said flatly.

“And you’re not getting any,” Vader answered sharply. “Look at me,” he challenged. “Really look at me. If you can bear it. Do I look like the type that has pity to spare?”

Luke had gone very quiet, but he didn’t look away. “Not exactly,” he then said, surprising Vader by answering his clearly rhetorical question and drawing a bark of laughter out of him.

He visibly calmed down. “You are a bold one,” he then said. “How old are you anyway?”

“Almost fifteen.”

“So fourteen. What do you usually do in your weekends?”

“Homework. Other people’s maths homework. Walking in the forest when we’re allowed, escaping when we’re not. Being bored.”

“It seems I did do you a service then. Why would you make other people’s homework?”

“Because I’m good at it? And I like it. Figuring out the older kids’ maths is a fun challenge.”

“You like maths?”

“Yeah. I think I’m pretty good at it.”

“Hmm. Interesting. Perhaps you’ll be useful after all.”

“Erm… You’re not going to make me do your accounts, right? Because I know nothing about stuff like that.”

This time Vader really laughed. “No,” he said, “I don’t think I would entrust my accounts to a teenager. We’ll see if I can figure out something for you. Care for lunch?”

Luke nodded. They went into the kitchen, the atmosphere lighter than it had been on the ride here.

“Your house is really beautiful,” Luke said.

“Thank you.”

“But your garden sucks, you know. It’s huge and you don’t do anything with it.”

“What would I have to ‘do with it?’”

“I don’t know! It’s just grass now. Maybe… get some flowers? So it looks nice if you want to spend time outside.”

“I’m not big on sunbathing,” Vader replied, but the self-deprecating humour missed a real sting. 

“Or vegetables. You could grow all kinds of stuff.”

“I can also buy all kinds of stuff,” Vader said sardonically.

“It’s fun! I always wanted to grow stuff.”

“A maths loving, landscape designing fourteen year old. Fascinating.”

“Aren’t you curious to try it?”

“Not really,” Vader said. He appeared to be struggling to slice the tomato, his damaged hand missing the dexterity of his right. Luke swallowed his offer to help and bit his tongue. He’d probably been slicing tomatoes all his life unaided and it was clearly a sensitive topic, as his outburst from before had illustrated. “Would you like to try?” Vader interrupted Luke’s train of thought.

“Uh - what?”

“Grow vegetables, of course.”

“You’d let me do that? In your garden?”

“Why not? It’s not as if I’m doing anything with it, as you said.” 

“Yes,” Luke answered honestly, “I would love that. It’s winter though, now. Not really the right time.”

“You can start your research well in advance then. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to just get started, unhindered by any knowledge whatsoever.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “How? You know I don’t have a computer or anything like that, right?”

“There’s an iPad in one of the bookcases in the living room. Feel free to use it.”

Luke got up to retrieve it, Vader was just putting plates on the table when he got back. They ate, mostly in silence. 

“Listen, you can do whatever you want, or leave whenever you want, of course. Feel free to roam through the entire house. However, I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my bedroom, and didn’t touch anything in my office.” Vader said.

“Where is your bedroom?”

He got a suspicious look in return for the question. “I need to know where it is to stay out of it,” he said reasonably. 

“Fair enough.” Vader pointed to the door in the far wall Luke was facing. “The room at the end of that corridor. Do I have your word?”

“Yes. I promise,” Luke said earnestly. 

“Very well. What would you like to do?”

“Plan how I’m going to arrange your garden. Hey, what did you mean, earlier, when you said I could be useful to you?”

“Never mind that now. It was silly.”

“Aaww… Come on, I hate it when adults first tell you something and then ignore you when they realise you’re still a kid. It’s not fair.”

“Good point. I thought you could maybe do some calculations for me. Grunt work, so to speak. But you lack the proper education, without a doubt.”

“Grunt work for what?”

“My research. I’m a mathematician.”

“Really?” Luke looked at Vader with a look of utmost respect in his eyes.

“Yes. I hold two doctorates,” he said, somewhat proudly.

“Do you work for a university?”

“In a way, yes. My research is funded by a university.”

“Maybe you can…” All kinds of emotions flickered across Luke’s face - hope, anxiety, then disappointment. “Never mind,” he said.

“What? Tell me,” Vader demanded.

“It’s stupid,” Luke muttered. “You probably don’t have time for that, I shouldn’t-”

“Perhaps you can spare the interior monologue for another time and just spit it out,” Vader said, impatiently.

“I’d like to learn more, maybe you can teach me stuff? I think I’m good at this, I’m not sure. Maybe I could help you then.” There was something fragile in Luke’s voice.

Vader considered him. “You want to learn?” he asked. 

Luke nodded.

“Very well,” he said eventually. “Let’s find out what you can do.”

Luke positively beamed. “Thank you so much!” he exclaimed. “I won’t take up too much of your time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vader muttered, unused to dealing with gratitude. 

They finished their sandwiches. “Follow me,” Vader said, preceding Luke into the corridor that also housed his forbidden bedroom. They went into his study, which was much larger than Luke had expected. The huge desk in front of the window was the central feature, looking out on the forest and full of neatly stacked piles of paper. The wall to Luke’s left was a huge whiteboard, its lower half filled with scribbles. There was only one chair, standing in a corner. Vader pulled it in front of the desk. “Wipe that whiteboard clean,” he said, pointing to a nearby rag, before he disappeared to the kitchen and came back with a second chair. 

“Right,” he said, sitting down and staring at the now empty whiteboard, sighing. “I don’t usually teach. In fact, I don’t think I’m much of a teacher at all,” he clarified.

“That’s okay,” Luke said. “Madine, he’s our teacher at the orphanage, really isn’t much of a teacher either. No one has a clue what he’s going on about half of the time. That’s why I make everyone’s homework.”

“I see. No pressure then,” Vader said. “How about we begin with the basics. Differential equations. Let’s see what you already know and how far we’ll get.”

Luke nodded eagerly. 

“Do you know what a function is?”

Luke nodded hesitantly. “I think so.”

Vader’s explanation started off factual enough, but as he continued his voice gained a reflective quality, as if he was thinking out loud, solving a problem while speaking. Luke was entranced. They spent most of the afternoon in the study, at some point Luke left his chair and ended up sitting on a pillow on the ground, in front of the whiteboard-wall, solving equation after equation, while Vader focussed on his own work. Occasionally he looked up and offered a pointer. 

“You do have a gift,” he said by the end of the afternoon. Outside it was dark already. 

“You really think so?” Luke asked breathlessly.

“I know so.” It was definitely a smile he directed at his young student. “Come,” he said. “It’s getting late. Aren’t you hungry?”

Luke shrugged, “Not really,” he lied. “I could go on a bit longer. You’re a really good teacher.”

“I thought teenagers were always hungry.” He pushed himself up from his sitting position and left the study. Luke looked longingly at the whiteboard, clearly torn, but got up and followed eventually, stretching his stiff muscles by sitting on the floor for so long. 

“What are we eating?” he asked as he entered the kitchen. 

“I don’t know. I don’t cook all that often.” Vader stood in front of the fridge, studying its contents. It was filled to the brim, Luke saw as he glanced inside past Vader’s wide frame, also with fresh produce. 

“Then what do you eat?” he asked surprised.

“Ready-to-eat meals? Even here people must have heard of those?”

“Erm, sure. How about pasta?”

“Can you cook?”

“I don’t live in a normal people house, with a stove and all. The closest I’ve come to cooking is doing endless piles of dishes twice a month, more if I get caught sneaking out.”

“Right. You can help now. By chopping the onions for starters.”

Doing maths together had created a familiarity between them that hadn’t been there before. They almost seemed like two normal people, cooking for fun, side by side. Luke picked up the knife and got down to work, while Vader gathered the other ingredients. After the onions, over which he cried bitter tears, he continued with the other vegetables, while Vader did the actual cooking, an arrangement that suited them both fine. This illustrated something that would define their relationship in its early stages. They picked up where the other left off, filling in for each other, inventing mechanisms to solve problems without having to address them, circumventing difficult subjects and each other’s limitations. 

“You could stay the night, if you wish,” Vader said during their meal, which was a huge success, if you asked Luke. Fresh produce was a luxury that didn’t befall him all that often. “I said I’d bring you back tomorrow.”

“That is so against regulations,” Luke commented. “Can I? I mean, I’d love that. But I don’t want to  overstay my welcome,” he hastily added.

“You’re no bother. You can have the upstairs bedroom.”

After dinner Vader retreated into his study again, and came back holding two books. “Take these,” he said.

Luke accepted them wordlessly, studying the covers. 

“These should teach you all you need to know for now. Ask if you don’t understand something.”

“Really?” he brought out. “You’re just giving them to me?” 

“I have no use of them anymore,” Vader waved it off, clearly uncomfortable. “And it would be a crime not to nurture a talent like yours. Now I’d like to retreat for the evening, if you don’t mind. There’s a bathroom upstairs as well. Watch a movie if you like. Plan that garden.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “I’ll be out of your hair for the night,” he grinned, only then realising what exactly he’d said, his gaze briefly drawn to Vader’s bald head. The scars looked painful.

Vader didn’t seem to notice and waved Luke off. “Much appreciated,” he said, leaving the boy alone at the kitchen table. Taking the books with him, Luke went upstairs. It took a while to find the light switches. Upstairs, the house was just as spacious as downstairs, but the rooms were completely empty. Amazed, Luke went from room to room, until he found a room that was fixed up, as a bedroom, a bathroom including a bath adjacent to it. The bed was made, there was carpet on the floor, thick and plush; the room was decorated with just as much attention to detail as the entire ground floor, but the other rooms were clearly unused. There even wasn’t any wallpaper on the walls. Luke walked around for a while through the empty rooms, noticing the dust on empty window sills, enjoying the view of the dark forest, or the little he could see in the moonlight. This must be an amazing vantage point to witness the sunrise. His thoughts briefly flickered to Vader, wondering what he was doing right now. Probably working, enjoying the peace in his study. He didn’t seem like a people’s person, most likely had had more social contact in a day now than he usually had in a year. Luke grinned at the thought. He wondered what had happened to him. He wondered what he would do if something like that happened to him. He shivered, retreated back into the bedroom, picking up the books he’d just gotten. The room seemed to have a feminine touch, he noticed absently. Lying down on the bed, he began to read. At some point he got under the covers, to drive away the chill of the night, and at some point he must have fallen asleep, because in the morning he woke up with the book’s hard edge imprinted in his cheek. 

 

***

 

Even if this were the new normal of his life, he could probably never get used to it, Luke thought, waking up not because of surrounding noise, but naturally, simply because he’d slept enough. Waking up in total silence. Looking outside and seeing it had snowed. Winter had finally arrived. Luke loved the snow. He quickly put on his clothes and went downstairs. Nine o’clock, he saw on the clock hanging in the kitchen. There was no sign of Vader yet. He found his coat hanging next to Vader’s in the entrance hall, put it on, ran outside. Luke could never get enough of feeling and hearing fresh snow crunch underneath his shoes, the almost physical feeling of silence, the snow a perfectly isolating blanket. He threw himself on the ground, forgetting to breathe momentarily, enjoying the cold, making a snow angel. He got up again, just looked around. Took his time. It was a special kind of mystery to be able to be somewhere without anyone interfering, have all the space you desired. A luxury, he realised.

He went inside again, noticed he’d been outside for almost an hour. It had felt like minutes. Vader was up by now, baking eggs. 

“I saw you lying in the snow,” he said. “Enjoyed it?”

“Yes,” Luke said. “I did. Can I help?”

Vader shook his head. “No. Quite finished. There we go.” Two plates stood ready next to him.

Luke asked questions about what he’d read last night in bed, made some new exercises on the whiteboard-wall, reluctantly got up when Vader pointed out that he really should get back. It had been snowing most of the day, but the car could easily handle it, Vader assured him. It was built for this weather. Vader drove him back, told him, no, promised, he’d wait for him next Saturday, only drove off once Luke was inside. And that was that. Luke felt like he’d travelled to another planet and back again. But this ‘back again’, he couldn’t relate to it anymore now he’d seen the galaxy.

He made his homework, tried to avoid teachers and his dorm mates alike as much as possible, kept his calm, counted prime numbers in his head to fall asleep at night. By the time Friday had arrived, he had to do his best to not go outside, to stick to the rules, scared that his privilege - or punishment, depending on whose point of view - would be suspended otherwise, terrified that Vader wouldn’t show up after all. But when he went outside on Saturday at about ten o’clock, his car was waiting already. When Luke looked back when they drove off, he saw Mothma standing by the big observation window on the first floor, looking at them. He quickly forgot about that, the rest of the weekend, spending it more or less similarly as last weekend. And in this fashion several weeks passed: on Saturday mornings Vader would wait for Luke at around ten in the morning, and return him on Sunday in time for dinner. He’d study mathematics during the day, and read his books in the evening. He never took the books, his now most priced possessions, to the orphanage. He left them under the bed instead. Perhaps he and Vader were getting closer as time passed. Luke couldn’t imagine not having these weekends anymore. He’d even all but forgotten about the mysterious Piett’s visit.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the first time in his life Luke found himself actively looking forwards to something, and he found he could much easier brush aside those things that usually grieved him; the constant cold, whispers following him around in the corridors, even Biggs looking at him strangely these days. These things seemed not as important as they had once been, they were minor inconveniences that paled next to the glow of his weekends. Whereas he’d obsessively counted down the days of the week in order to count the weeks in order to count the seasons and years until he could finally leave this place behind, he’d started living in the present somewhat. Vader had been wrong: if you asked Luke, he was an amazing teacher. Those weekends away from the orphanage were an entry ticket to whole new worlds he was slowly discovering. According to Vader, he made great progress. Their maths lessons had become more than an experiment, and were a fixed feature of their time together now; Vader by his desk, occasionally talking, Luke listening attentively, by the whiteboard. In just a month’s time he’d learned more than he would have learned in the coming two years at the orphanage. Vader was often moody and withdrawn, but when they did maths together all was well. The evenings, Luke usually spent alone.

Vader didn’t ask how Luke’s week had been anymore. He’d done so at first, but clearly only to break the ice between them. There was definitely still discomfort between them, despite their shared interests, and it was such an unassuming, standard question that was usually always safe to ask. Vader was not used to socialising, especially not with a teenager, as people generally felt ill at ease in his presence, and Luke had never really been in a situation where it was required. Without cues from Vader, he wasn’t sure which topics would be safe to talk about, and he was afraid to annoy Vader, who seemed to prefer silence as it was. Luke’s answers to that silly question didn’t go beyond an empty “Fine,” or a shrug, and because the weeks usually were not “Fine” and they both knew it, the following silence had been even more depressing. It had been a relief when Vader didn’t ask anymore, and Luke stopped asking in return as well. In a way, it was as if they didn’t exist except for in the weekends, their designated timeslots together, and that arrangement worked. Despite the distance between them that often felt unbridgeable, Vader’s monosyllabic replies to Luke’s prompts that didn’t have to do with mathematics and how slow the process of tentatively mapping each other’s boundaries went, they were still drawn to one another, and there was kinship between them.

It was seriously freezing today, Luke noticed when he went outside, and secondly: it was also his birthday. He’d entirely forgotten till now. Vader wasn’t there yet. He put his hands in his pockets and walked around the parking lot, it was too cold to stand still. His coat wasn’t as warm as it should be, considering the climate, but he’d put on several layers underneath to compensate. Some of the older boys had warmer coats, and he envied them right now. After their sixteenth birthday, they were allowed to get a summer job, if they could find one, and the few lucky ones who’d managed always got jealous looks for the things they’d bought with their earnings. Still no trace of Vader. He had never been late, Luke thought, why did it have to be today of all days, now it was so cold. That thought abruptly sobered him up, and he laughed. Who’d have thought. He sounded like a spoiled princess. After that first time, Luke had been quick to propose that he didn’t need to be picked up every week, that he could walk. He wasn’t a child, after all, and he enjoyed the exercise. Vader had flashed him a strange look, muttering something about Luke being his responsibility. Adults were strange. 

He made snowballs and aimed them at various objects and trees, gradually increasing the throwing distance each time he hit a target. Where was Vader? Was the road inaccessible? It had been snowing a lot again. They were never in touch during the week, the necessity had never arisen before. But Vader would call, wouldn’t he, if something came up? Mothma might not let him know though if he had, secretly enjoying Luke’s lone wait in the cold for nothing. He sometimes suspected the woman was a vampire, feeding off the despair of her subjects. Plenty of despair within these walls. What could have come up? Luke didn’t have the impression that Vader maintained a very busy social life, or any kind of life except for his research indeed, next to his visits. More often than not Luke suspected he was the first person Vader spoke to in a week when he picked him up on Saturdays. 

Or was something else going on - was he done with Luke? Was he too much of a bother, an intrusion on his time? The thought did something unpleasant to his insides, his heart beat in his throat. Luke shook off the thought, focussing on improving his aim again instead, but a flicker of that unpleasant thought still niggled at the edge of his mind. Something _did_ happen last week, though he hadn’t really thought about it at the time, it hadn’t seemed important. As December progressed, Vader had gradually been growing quieter, and last week he’d been even more distant than usual, at one point even visibly containing himself so he didn’t snap at Luke. Luke had thought it was just a mood, but perhaps it had been an indication of something else, and he’d been too stupid to realise. He annoyed the man with his uneducated behaviour, and now he regretted ever having let Luke into his house, and he didn’t know how to break the news to him. Of course. That was it. He’d been blinded by his naive optimism, but people like Vader didn’t care about people like Luke. Not even one as odd as Vader himself. That was just the way of the world. It was good he’d learned that lesson now, early in life. He’d stopped throwing snowballs, he noticed, probably had stood here still as stone for the past few minutes. He steeled himself and bit back unexpected tears. He wouldn’t cry. Not over a man he’d only known a month and a half.

But perhaps - and despite his best efforts he felt a flicker of hope - something had happened. That wasn’t impossible. Despite his bad temper and apparent depression, Vader didn’t seem like the type who’d simply disappear. Luke had trusted him almost immediately. And he’d been nothing but fair towards him. Was he ill? He was all alone in that big house, quite a ways from town. Maybe something had happened to him and no one knew. Luke paced through the snow, thinking frantically. When another ten minutes or so had gone by, he made a decision. He’d go to the house, find out what was wrong. If he was no longer welcome, he _had_ to know as well. He was not the type to sit back passively and the insecurity was killing him. By now it was clear Vader wasn’t going to come anymore. He’d been waiting for too long. If he didn’t want to see Luke anymore, well, he’d deal with that when it happened, and if - and he tried to silence that voice - yes, _if_ he needed Luke’s help, then he had to hurry. 

He ran into the forest. Covered in snow, it was harder to navigate than usual, but Luke was familiar enough with the terrain to manage, though his progress was slow. He didn’t have the right shoes for this weather and it didn’t take long before his feet were soaked. Not the right shoes, not the right coat, not the right anything. He screamed in frustration at one point - here, no one could hear him. Standing still for a moment, he tried to catch his breath, a lost tear rolling down his cheek. He wasn’t sure if it was from exertion, anger or sadness. He imagined Vader’s stoic look, asking him what he was doing here, and why. He shook his head, banishing the phantom, and continued onwards, forcing himself to go on.  A few times, he almost fell, a snow covered ditch he hadn’t seen, or a hidden branch impeding him. He had no idea how much time had passed when he finally saw the house appear behind the trees. He slowed down, nervous again, looking for a sign of Vader. The car was parked where it always was, so he had to be home. Waiting by the edge of the clearing he inevitably thought back to when they’d met. Once he’d seen Luke was only a child he’d tried to put him at ease, no one else had ever done as much for him as Vader. Had Vader changed his mind? Should Luke go inside? Maybe he should just go back. Vader didn’t want to see him, and that was that. What right did he have to invade his privacy - a second time? He shook his head, knowing he was only postponing. Of course he’d go in. He walked up to the house, skittish as a deer. 

He went inside, using the key Vader had left hidden for him, now three weeks ago, for when he wanted to go outside in the mornings, as he tended to do. It was deadly quiet inside. No one in the living room or kitchen. Not that he’d expected him to be here, he seemed to spend all his time in the study. Swallowing, he stepped into the corridor that led there, debating whether he’d dare to knock at the door. That was unnecessary, it turned out, as it was ajar. Luke peeked inside. Deserted. Now that was unusual. His earlier worry resurfaced - was something wrong? There was only one other place where Vader could be; the door by the end of the hallway, the one he’d been strictly forbidden to enter, his bedroom. He stood in front of it now. Vader would be completely fine, nothing would be wrong. Luke had been worried for nothing. He was simply sleeping. He’d probably been working through the night again, as he tended to do, and was sleeping in. He often got up late, after all, except on Saturdays, when he came to pick up Luke. If Luke knocked at the door now, he’d be angry, livid, and rightfully so. His stomach churned and as he lifted his hand in the direction of the door, he saw it was shaking. He knocked, quietly. Nothing. He knocked again, harder this time, waited. Nothing changed. As silently as possible, he pushed the door open, looked in through the crack. He saw the edge of a bed. He crept in. The curtains were half closed, but in the remaining light that fell inside Luke could see a queen sized bed, and Vader was in it. A wheelchair stood next to the bed, momentarily puzzling him, but he was too on edge to dwell on it.

“Vader?” he asked, voice small.

There was no answer. He approached the bed until he stood next to it, and pushed the wheelchair aside to get closer.

“Vader?” he asked again. He looked pale, paler even than usual. A sudden rush of panic overtook him - was he dead? Just as quickly, it abated - he wasn’t, he noticed with relief, Luke could clearly hear him breathing, but something was definitely wrong. “Vader?” he asked again, and he reached out to touch his scarred cheek, retracting his hand immediately. He felt warm to the touch, much too warm. “It’s me, Luke,” he said. Luke lay his hand on his forehead next, he was burning up. Vader cracked open his eyes and sought out Luke with his gaze. “Padmé?” he asked, voice weak. He was clearly sick, and feverish up to the point of delirious. What should he do? He looked around, saw the half open door that led to a bathroom. Inside he filled a glass of water and returned to Vader’s side. 

“Can you drink?” He attempted to lift the man’s head and succeeded just enough to be able to place the glass at his lips. He drank slowly, only a few sips, then coughed, the sound of which made Luke cringe. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re sick,” Luke answered, absentmindedly, looking for a clue as to what he needed to do. Vader needed a doctor. His phone was on the bedside table. Luke picked it up, and frustrated put it back again. The retinal scanner was disabled and he didn’t know the passcode. “How do I use this?” Luke asked, but Vader seemed unaware of his presence again. There was only one option: he’d have to walk. There was no time to lose.

“I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere!” he said to the delirious man, something he probably shouldn’t worry about right now, he thought in hindsight. He ran outside, locked the door behind him and this time took the key with him. It was only slightly less far to the town centre than it was to the orphanage, if he took the shortcuts through the forest. It would be much easier to follow the road, what with all the snow, but that would also mean a serious detour. He decided on the forest, going as fast as he could, worried sick, but now he was outside again he also allowed himself to briefly feel a sliver of relief: Vader hadn’t just ditched him after all. And then he felt guilty for this selfish thought.

Luke reached the small town within forty-five minutes. He had to ask around to find the doctor’s office, never having been there before. He rang the doorbell. When it took too long to his tastes, he rang again, impatiently. An older woman opened, ready to reproach him for his impolite behaviour, but he gave her no chance. “I need to see the doctor right away!”

“It is the weekend, young man. What on earth is so urgent that you can’t wait till Monday or simply make a phone call?” she asked, irritated.

“It’s Vader. He lives by himself in the big house outside town. He’s really sick and needs a doctor right away.”

She seemed to consider him briefly. “One moment. I’ll get my husband. You can tell your story to him.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, relieved.

“Haven’t I met you before?” the doctor said straight away when he saw Luke. “The boy from the orphanage, with the shot wound?” He looked suspicious at the sudden appearance of a wet, flushed and panicked orphan at his doorstep, a wholly understandable sentiment of the good doctor. 

“Yes, that’s me. Never mind that now. I’m not here for me. It’s Vader. He’s really ill,  I don’t know how long he’s been that way. He’s got a fever and doesn’t really react. You have to come and see him.”

“Vader? The one who bought the house in the woods? And, if the rumours are correct, who shot you?”

“Yes, that’s him. Please. Will you come?”

“You are quite serious? You’re not pulling my leg?”

“I swear I’m not!” Luke said, impatiently. 

The doctor nodded. “Have you noticed anything else, except for a fever?”

“He has a really… nasty cough. I tried to make him drink some water. I know fluids are important.”

“That they are. You did well. Let me pack up my things. How did you get here, by the way?”

“I walked.”

The doctor looked at him strangely. “We’ll take my car.”

“What’s your name again?” he inquired when they were on their way. 

“Luke,” Luke said.

“Nice to meet you, Luke. I’m doctor Solomon. What were you doing at his house?”

“I er… am to help out around the house during the weekends as a punishment. For trespassing earlier.”

“I see. You seem to care about him a lot for having run all the way to my house from up there.”

“I like him,” Luke said quietly. “He teaches me things too. But you can’t tell the headmistress. It’s supposed to be a punishment. She’ll put a stop to it.”

Solomon smiled, but didn’t comment any further on the subject as they arrived at the house and the doctor parked next to Vader’s car.

Luke unlocked the door and let the doctor in. “He’s in his bedroom,” he said, and lead the way. 

“Can you open those curtains for me, Luke?”

He whistled softly through his teeth as he got a good look at Vader. “Burn victim, eh?” he asked.

“Erm, we don’t discuss things like that,” Luke said, feeling uncomfortable with Solomon’s forwardness when it came to something so private and sensitive to Vader. He hovered anxiously around the bed.

“You said he had a terrible cough?”

“Yeah.”

Solomon measured his temperature. “Yes, we definitely need to get that fever down,” he murmured. He rummaged around in his bag and took out his stethoscope. As he slid the blankets down and Vader’s bare neck and torso became visible, Luke saw the scars extended far beyond his face. Only parts of his right arm seemed unaffected. “Poor devil,” Solomon muttered. He listened to Vader’s heart and lungs for a while. “No doubt about it. Pneumonia. You don’t know how long he’s been like this? He’s been all by himself?”

Luke shook his head. “He lives alone.”

“Right. His medical history probably makes him more susceptible than you or me to infections of the respiratory system. I’m going to call an ambulance for him. He’s undoubtedly dehydrated, and some extra oxygen will be a huge help.”

“Will he be okay?” Luke asked, worried.

Solomon turned to him. “Yes. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. Look at the guy, he’s a tough one. You did good to get me though. Not sure what would have happened otherwise.”

“I want to come,” Luke said earnestly, after Solomon had made the call. Now the acute flame of his fear that he had been abandoned had faded and was put on the backburner again, a different kind of fire filled him: he wanted to stay with Vader, had to look out for him now he himself couldn’t, like Vader, by letting him come here, by teaching him, looked out for him. 

“You’re an underage ward of the state,” Solomon pointed out. “It’s a long drive to the hospital, and how would you get back? I’m also fairly sure I’m not supposed to allow that.”

“I don’t want to leave him alone,” Luke said stubbornly. 

Solomon sighed. “That’s very nice of you, boy, but it’s maybe not the best idea. And have you considered that he may not want you there? He strikes me as a very private man. Otherwise he wouldn’t have moved to these parts, don’t you think? He’s not going to die on you, kid. You can visit later. They’re probably not going to keep him there very long. Just to get the antibiotics working.”

“You’re wrong,” Luke said. “He needs me.”

“Luke,” the doctor said gently, “It’s going to be fine.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I say, does it?” Luke asked dejected. “You’re not letting me come.”

“That’s correct. You know I can’t allow that, and there’s nothing you can do anyway. I’ll give you a ride back to the orphanage after they pick him up.”

As Solomon went to the bathroom to wash his hands, Luke picked up Vader’s phone from the bedside table and slipped it in his pocket. He wasn’t sure why or what use it was to him, he couldn’t use it after all without the passcode, but perhaps it did come in handy. He just had a feeling. 

“How long will he have to stay?” Luke asked. 

“A few days, perhaps a bit longer, as he lives here on his own.” He settled back in the chair next to the wardrobe. “So what is it he teaches you?” 

“Maths,” Luke said. “He works for the university.”

Solomon’s small talk barely worked as a distraction, as in his back pocket he felt Vader’s phone vibrate with several incoming messages. “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to use the bathroom.” Sitting on the toilet, he saw several push notifications. “Why don’t you answer??” And: “Is everything ok?” So he wasn’t the only one who’d been worried. Perhaps this person was worried enough to call. He flushed the toilet for good measure and washed his hands, dawdling, and thinking how he could avoid having to leave Vader’s side. He had no idea.

The bell rang, startling Luke, who was deep in thought, sombre, sitting on the edge of Vader’s bed. If he stayed close, everything would be all right. An ambulance had arrived. Two paramedics entered, carrying a stretcher between them. Solomon concisely explained the situation, not so subtly guiding them outside the bedroom while doing so, out of Luke’s earshot.

“Hi,” one of them introduced himself to Luke when they came back in. He crouched down to Luke’s level. “I can see you care a lot about him. We’re going to take real good care of him, okay? For that, you’ll have to move aside. Can you do that for us?”

“I’m not a child,” Luke bit back, perhaps a bit unfairly towards the paramedic, but he was angry. 

They drew back the blankets covering Vader, took the shirt Salomon handed over. “Sir,” the same man who’d just talked to Luke said, addressing Vader. “Sir, can you hear us? We’re going to take you to the hospital. You’re very sick. I’m going to put a shirt on you. Do you think you can cooperate?” Vader barely responded, but that didn’t matter. Swiftly, almost routinely, they got him dressed. And then, when they moved to  lift him, Luke staggered back and saw stars: where Vader’s legs should be, there were only two stumps, ending mid-thigh. He was a double amputee, and Luke had never noticed, or perhaps hadn’t cared to notice. His gaze briefly drifted to the wheelchair, flickered back to Vader, and he grew very, very quiet. He couldn’t tear his eyes off him. He owed it to him, to really look at him. Vader barely reacted to the handling of his body. At one point he opened his eyes and held Luke’s gaze for several moments, just as an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose. Then he was carried off.

“Come,” Solomon said gently after a while. “Let’s go.” He stayed mostly quiet during the car ride back, probably sensing Luke needed some time to get to grips with the situation. 

“Are you all right?” he asked at some point. 

Luke nodded. In his pocket the phone was vibrating. An incoming call. 

“You did the right thing today,” Solomon continued. “Try not to worry.”

They pulled up at the orphanage. The caller on the other end of the line had given up, he noticed disappointed.

“I’m sure you can visit next week again. Now take care of yourself, young man. And try not to get shot anymore.”

Luke smiled weakly, just as Solomon would expect him to, before bounding off. He took out the phone as the doctor drove off. Ahsoka Tano, the caller ID displayed. And just then, the phone started buzzing again. Heart pounding, Luke ran off to the trees - if he went back into the orphanage now, Mothma would never let him go anymore - and picked up. “Hello?” he said.

“Ermm… Who’s this?” A surprised, female voice said on the other end of the line. “Who are you? How did you get this phone? Did you steal it?” She was calm, but obviously not to be messed with, an accusatory undertone in her voice.

“I - No!” Luke said quickly. “I’m a friend of Vader’s?” he tried. “Erm… Are you?”

“Am I what? A friend? Yes!” she snapped. “Now would you mind telling me what’s going on? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for two days now. Who are you, and why do you have his phone?”

“I’m Luke,” Luke said for the second time that day. “And I took his phone. I mean, not stole it, but I took it along for safekeeping. They took him to the hospital.”

There was a moment’s silence at the other end of the line. Then: “Luke. Yes. He’s mentioned your name. I’m Ahsoka, by the way, but you probably saw that already. I’m An- Vader’s oldest friend. Why don’t you tell me everything from the beginning?”

And so Luke did. Of how he found him this morning - that already seemed ages ago now - and how he’d been mostly unresponsive. About his trip to the doctor’s, and said doctor’s refusal to let him accompany Vader to the hospital.

“Where are you now, Luke?” Ahsoka asked. 

“I’m outside, erm… in the woods. I live in the orphanage, but if I go back now, they won’t let me out again. And I can’t go back now, I need to-”

“Right. A persistent spirit. I like that,” Ahsoka said. “Don’t worry, Luke. I’m coming over. We’re obviously not leaving him alone while he’s sick. But it’s going to take me quite some time. I don’t exactly live around the corner. Tell you what, why don’t you head back to Vader’s house, and I’ll pick you up there. I’ll be there in about ten hours. Catch some sleep. Have a snack. Pack a bag for Vader. They never think of the stuff you need. Clothes. Toothbrush. Phone charger. You know, the usual.”

“You’re not telling me to go home and not interfere?” Luke asked incredulously. 

“Of course not,” she sounded almost cheerful. “Why do that if we can also have ourselves a little adventure. And I’ve been dying to meet you. Now go. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t stay up for me.”

“Okay,” Luke agreed. “I can’t call you back, by the way. I don’t know the passcode of his phone. But I’ll see it when you call me.”

“That’s all right. I’ll call you if the need arises. See you, Luke.” And she hung up. He was filled with a wild kind of happiness, and made the walk back to Vader’s house for the second time that day, running on adrenaline. When he arrived there, it was already past three in the afternoon. The house was always quiet, but without Vader there it was an unnatural silence. He was exhausted. The fridge was nearly empty, which was normally never the case, but there was enough for a quick meal, and then some. It was the first thing he ate today, he realised. Then he went back to Vader’s bedroom, intent on following Ahsoka’s instructions. His eyes fell on the wheelchair. It was sleek, and well-crafted, obviously made for someone who planned to use it long term. How had he never noticed? That was why the house was so roomy, so a wheelchair user would have no trouble manoeuvring through it. That’s why all the chairs in the house had armrests. Vader always used his arms to push himself up to his considerable height when rising from a chair. That’s why the rooms upstairs were abandoned, except for one. Probably Ahsoka’s room, for when she came to visit. Was that why he’d forbidden Luke from entering his bedroom? He didn’t want him to know? Abruptly, Luke began to cry, thoroughly shaken by the day’s events, but if you’d asked him why he was crying exactly, he would not have been able to answer. Was that what it felt like to care about a person? To be afraid for their wellbeing? Worried? Unable to stop the burn and ache in his chest and belly. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but it was quite too late for that now.

In the wardrobe he found an empty bag, which he filled with shirts, a sweater, and after some hesitation, shorts and a pair of pants as well. On the bottom of the wardrobe he saw what must be Vader’s prosthetic legs, the look of which shocked him again. He quickly closed it. In the bathroom he took the things he thought Vader might need. A toothbrush. Shower gel. It felt oddly intimate to look through his personal things like this, and he felt like an intruder. Afterwards, he went back to the living room and flopped down on the couch. He fell into a fitful sleep, until the doorbell rang.

 

***

 

Eyes bleary and hair tousled, he opened the door and found himself staring at her: a black woman, slender, eyes sparkling, outrageously dressed, a teal leather jacket reflecting the little light that came from inside the hall, one big bundle of energy, cheerful and present. Vader’s antithesis.

“Luke?” she asked. 

“Ahsoka?” He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“No need to be so formal, my co-conspirator. Are you going to let me in?” She positively beamed at him. Still slightly dazed, he stepped aside and let her in. 

“He’s got taste, hasn’t he?” she called to Luke from the kitchen, walking through the house and whistling appreciatively. “My first visit. A pity the master of the house isn’t here to hear me complimenting his style, but alas. I was going to come over for Christmas next week and stay for a while. Good thing I kept on calling now.”

“I think the bedroom upstairs is meant for you. I’ve been using it,” Luke said shyly, overtaken by Ahsoka’s boisterous personality. She immediately went upstairs to check it out. 

“He doesn’t come here, does he,” she asked, quieter than he’d heard of her so far.

He shook his head.

“Are you all right?” She turned to him. “You had a trying day.”

He nodded. “I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here. He looked really sick.”

“Hmm…” she looked at him for a long time, and he felt unable to look away, caught in her sharp gaze, it felt as if she could see all of him, things he wasn’t even consciously aware of. “Pneumonia, you said?” she continued conversationally. “He’s had it before. It was pretty severe then as well. And with his stubbornness… He’s so stupid sometimes.”

“The doctor said he might be more susceptible to it because of his medical history.”

She looked at him strangely. “Is there anything to eat in this house? I’m starving.”

They went downstairs again, and Luke pointed her to the fridge. 

“Might have to stock up tomorrow. But this will do for now.” She found pre-baked bread in a cupboard and put it in the oven. “What do you know about him?” Ahsoka asked.

“Not much,” Luke said. “I know he studies maths and he’s really good at it.”

“Yes, always was. But before he became so focussed on his mathematics, he was a pilot, like me. We flew together. Until one day, the jet he was supposed to fly caught fire. He was in it. Hadn’t taken off yet, they managed to pull him out, but, well, you know. He had to rehabilitate for over a year, lost both his legs. That jet had been tampered with. It was no accident.”

“Who did it?”

“A man named Palpatine was responsible. Destroying Anakin was his sole intent, because Anakin had turned him down several times, refused to commit fraud for him, and he was not the kind of man who was used to hearing no. He’s dead now. Died briefly after Anakin’s accident.”

“How?”

“He was killed. By his own subordinates. Obviously, he deserved it.”

Luke was quiet. “That’s horrible.”

“Yes.” She busied herself collecting everything she needed for a sandwich. “Do you want one as well?”

“Yes, please,” Luke said. “Is Anakin his first name or something?”

“Yes, or rather, it was. He was quite famous before the accident. After, he decided to change his name. He preferred the public to believe him dead instead of becoming a martyr, pitied by the masses. I should respect his wishes and call him Vader. He felt he’d lost enough and only wanted to live on his own terms anymore. It’s a miracle he pulled through at all, between you and me. He’s been quite lonely all these years. In fact, you may very well be the first person he let into his life since it happened.”

“When did it happen?”

“Fifteen years ago.”

“Wow… That’s when I was born.”

“A word of advice: don’t pity him. He’s had enough of that and it’s not what he needs. Considering the circumstances, he’s built a good life for himself and is doing okay. He’s my best friend, Luke. If you want to be his friend as well, respect that.”

Luke nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

“Until today, I - didn’t know about, his legs?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, “but if you had known, and seen, from the moment you met him, would you have looked at him the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a small voice. “It shocked me. But I don’t think so. Not really. I was just… surprised.”

“A lot of people do, though. People find it… hard to deal with the unexpected. With what’s different from their frame of reference. They look at you differently. I’m sure you understand that as well, based on what I know about you. And now you know. And it doesn’t change a thing.” She was quiet for a while, Luke nodded at her words. “Now, I’m exhausted. I drove here in one go. You take the upstairs bedroom, and I’ll sleep in his. Tomorrow we’ll go see him. Are you an early riser?”

“Ah… Sort of? Not very, really.”

“Yes, well. We’ll see.” 

Quite awake now Luke took a bath before he went to bed, mulling over Ahsoka’s words, feeling calmer now she was here. Then he unexpectedly slept very well, and dreamed, very meta, that Vader was looking at him sleep. 

 

***

 

He was woken up by unfamiliar sounds. Singing - and not very good singing at that. As he got downstairs he found Ahsoka walking through the house with the bag Luke had packed yesterday.

“You think like a man. Only the bare necessities. But it’s not too late yet to teach you how to add a woman’s touch.” He saw she’d added paper tissues, the phone charger he’d forgotten, the iPad, a few books, and heaps of candy. She must have brought those herself, because Luke had never seen Vader eat candy. 

“And this,” he said, tossing in Vader’s phone, that had still been in his possession.  

“It’s about an hour’s drive and at this time there’s no way they’ll let us in. Too early. Besides, his majesty usually doesn’t wake before half past eleven, if he’s got anything to say about it. How about you get ready, we get on the road and go eat somewhere along the way. And we can get groceries before we go as well.”

“Erm… I probably shouldn’t be seen in the nearby town now. I’m not supposed to just walk around with strange women. And doctor Solomon thinks I’m at the orphanage, I don’t want him to spot me.”

“Good thinking, Sherlock. We’ll go shopping before we go to the hospital then, instead of here in your quaint village. It’s cold outside, so it won’t spoil. Well, chop chop. Get ready then.”

Luke was ready within minutes. Whereas Vader’s car was practical, Ahsoka’s definitely… was not. It was a sports car type, that had little to no trunk space by the looks of it. It did seat four people though. And it was turquoise. Definitely something you didn’t see around here either. She came out of the house at Luke’s heel, carrying the wheelchair and tossing it on the back seat. “He’ll want that,” she said. Luke locked the door behind her.

“You have a… ah… conspicuous car.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “That’s exactly what I was aiming for. Put on some music, will you?”

Luke fumbled with the iPod she had connected to the usb-port. “I actually don’t know any of this,” he said, scrolling through the list. 

“Just try a few things until you find something you like then,” Ahsoka said. She gunned the engine. 

“Aw, you found my favourites playlist,” she cooed. “That’s Christine and The Queens. We can’t play that if we take Vader back, he hates it.”

“We’re taking him home?”

“If he’s well enough, of course. Probably not today, but let’s aim to have him home by Christmas. We’re not leaving him there then, right? You’re staying too, of course. I’ll arrange it.” She seemed positively delighted, and Luke briefly wondered if she was perhaps at least a little crazy.

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I can be very convincing,” she winked. 

At Ahsoka’s driving tempo, they reached the outskirts of the city in less than an hour. She pulled over to an all-day breakfast cafe just before they entered the city. Luke had never been in the city, this was an entirely different world to him, and he felt decidedly out of place. 

“Do you know what hospital he’s in?” he asked as they waited for their orders (eggs and bacon and toast and avocado - he’d just ordered the same as she had, unsure of the codes of conduct of places like these, feeling like a fish out of water.)

“Yes, I called around when you were still in bed this morning. But let’s do some food shopping first.”

They went to an all organic supermarket, Luke couldn’t believe his eyes as he looked at the prices, but Ahsoka seemed unconcerned and happily filled up a shopping cart with vegetables, pasta, potatoes, chocolate (quite a lot, possibly way more than humans needed or should have, in Luke’s opinion), yoghurt, chicken, bacon, premium steaks, nuts, rice, and what else not. “Take whatever catches your eye,” she said merrily. “You’ll be eating this the coming week and we’re buying for three people.” Not everything they bought fit in the trunk, the rest she stuffed on the backseat.

They pulled up at the hospital’s parking lot. “All right,” Ahsoka breathed. “Let’s brave this pit of bureaucracy and destruction, and bust our hero out of this place.”

Luke smiled on the outside, but suddenly felt very insecure. He’d wanted to be here. He’d had this overwhelming feeling that he needed to be at Vader’s side. Now his old insecurities rose up again. “I thought he was done with me,” he confessed to Ahsoka, who’d noticed his mood swing. “That he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Oh baby,” Ahsoka said, really looking at him for the first time after she’d turned off the engine. “He really likes you, you know. That’s no small feat. And from what I’ve seen of you yesterday and this morning, I totally get why. You two are quite alike. I don’t know all of your story, but I heard a little. You come from a shitty place. So does he. And you’ve got similar interests. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from each other. I think you’re in each other’s stars.” She smiled, then turned serious again. “I should thank you too,” she said softly. “I’m sure you realise it as well by now, but you may have saved his life yesterday. From what you and the hospital staff told me this morning, he was pretty far out.” She breathed out. “What I meant to say: it’s human to hesitate, to be scared, to be unsure of relationships. But right now, you really shouldn’t be.”

Luke smiled back, weakly, nodded.

“You good to go?”

He nodded again. 

He followed Ahsoka, who carried the bag he and then she had filled up. “Hi!” she said brightly at the reception desk. Luke hung back, amazed at how she seemed to move completely effortlessly through life. 

“This place is like a maze,” he muttered when they followed the signs, arrows, took the elevators, finally ended up in the right corridor. 

“Yeah,” Ahsoka replied.

The door of the room Vader was in was half open, Ahsoka entered, Luke followed her hesitantly. The blinds were down, making it fairly dark. 

His eyes were closed, but he opened them as he heard them. “Ahsoka?” he asked. Luke followed, feeling nervous for reasons he couldn’t really put into words.

“Luke?” His voice sounded muffled, there was an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, similar to the one the paramedics had supplied him with yesterday. Was it really only yesterday? 

“Hi there, hero,” Ahsoka said.

“Am I dreaming? How can you be here together?”

Ahsoka sat down on the edge of his bed. “We’re just these magical unicorn creatures, sensing you were in distress, and here we are,” she said. “How are you?”

As if in answer to that question, he coughed. Ahsoka reached for the box of tissues next to him, took off his oxygen mask.

“Doing great, champion,” she said. “I really missed you, you know. Didn’t think this was how we were gonna spend the coming days.” She bent over to him and put her head on his shoulder. He embraced her.

“I know, Snips. I’m sorry,” he replied. 

Luke had shyly stayed back until now, but upon releasing Ahsoka, Vader looked at him. 

“You were there,” he said, coughing again. Ahsoka replaced the oxygen mask when he was done. “I saw you,” Vader continued. 

“He came over to your house, by foot through the forest, found you in bed, went to get a doctor for you, also by foot, in that horrible snow, guarded you like a lion.” Ahsoka said. 

“Why?” Vader asked.

“Just… because…” and Luke couldn’t help it, but he began to sniffle. 

Vader stretched out his arms, and Luke didn’t hesitate anymore, sitting down on the other side of the bed, leaning into the embrace, careful not to disturb the IV-line. It felt really good, all of the distance and insecurities and uncertainties that had once been between them disappeared at once - or at least, didn’t matter right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, his face pressed against Vader’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the world. “I came into your bedroom.” It was somehow easier to talk like this. 

“Luke… I can’t find the words right now to tell you what I think, but… Thank you. Don’t apologise. Please.”

They sat there together for quite a while, even Ahsoka didn’t speak. “So what now,” she asked at one point. “How long do they want you to stay?”

“I don’t know,” Vader replied. “I was out pretty long, I haven’t seen a doctor yet today.”

“Luke, would you mind finding a doctor?” Ahsoka asked.

He nodded, stepping outside, tried to get his bearings, stayed next to the door, and listened to what was said next. 

“If he hadn’t found you, you might have died,” Ahsoka said flatly. “You probably would have. I thought we were beyond this. You promised to stay alive, remember?” 

“I know,” Vader said. “Believe me, please. I didn’t do it on purpose. I thought I was okay, then I thought I would get better, then I… don’t remember all that much anymore. I don’t know how much time passed. It doesn’t feel like long. I’m sorry. Also… That I made the boy go through this.”

“Do you have any idea how much he cares about you? You can’t do things like this anymore.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You thought that, except for me, your existence was a no strings attached deal. That isn’t the case anymore. The boy cares deeply about you. You have an obligation now. Are you aware of that?” Ahsoka was quiet for a moment. “He’s a lot like you. You gave him something he was deprived of all his life, and he promptly gave you his heart. You were like that too. So trusting. Giving yourself all the way. Having absolute faith. Don’t disappoint him.”

“I won’t,” Vader replied. “I know you’re right. I think I knew from the moment I met him.”

“I think at some deeper level he understood this too. And if not, he does now. He’s listening at the door.” Ahsoka stuck her head around the corner, smirking. 

“I wasn’t sure, to be fair,” she added. “It was just a gamble. Go find that doctor anyway, will you?”

Luke turned fifty shades of red, went into the corridor and left the adults to talk, Ahsoka’s words replayed in his head, as they probably would continue to for a very long time. Because what they meant was that Vader cared about him, and he was now a part of something. He had never been a part of something before. Never belonged. Right now, his heart soared.

“Excuse me?” he asked shyly when he reached a reception desk. “Do you know when someone’s coming to see Mr Vader?”

“The doctor is doing her rounds right now, so she should be there in a bit, honey.”

He went back, slowly, not wanting to intrude on Vader and Ahsoka, and thinking about what he’d overheard. When he reached the room and peeked in, Ahsoka beckoned him closer. 

“There will be a doctor here pretty soon,” he said. “She called me honey, the nurse.”

“You are very cute for a fifteen year old,” Ahsoka grinned. “Adorable, really.”

“Fourteen,” Vader corrected. “He’s fourteen.”

“Ah… Actually, I’m fifteen now,” Luke said.

“What? When did that happen?”

“Yesterday,” Luke mumbled.

The adults looked at him in shock. “And you didn’t think to mention it before? I could have bought cake! We’d have eaten pie! Showered you with gifts!” Ahsoka exclaimed. “Seriously, you’re not very good at being a teenager. Way too responsible, and too humble. Try better.”

“Yesterday? Really?” Vader said, his breathing laboured despite the oxygen mask. He seemed to struggle processing that information, Ahsoka put her hand on his shoulder, squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Luke, I didn’t know. And instead I traumatised you completely. Not much of a birthday.” 

“It’s all right,” Luke mumbled, staring at the ground, flushing under the adults’ attention. “I don’t care for birthdays anyway. It’s just a number.” He was beet red now all the attention was focused on him. 

“So your birthday’s on December 21st?” Ahsoka asked. “Symbolic. The equinox. The longest night.”

“The darkest day of the year,” Luke said.

“No silly, you’re looking at this the wrong way. After your birth, the days only started getting longer again. Your coming into this world is a sign of hope. Of light.”

Vader and Luke looked at her thoughtfully. “You are one hell of an optimist,” Vader said slowly. “But you’re right in this instance.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m always right. We’ll still be celebrating that birthday, by the way.”

Just then the doctor arrived, introducing herself as doctor Myst and shaking everyone’s hand. “You’re doing a lot better than yesterday,” she addressed Vader. “After he arrived here, he was out for most of the day and night. We hooked him up to antibiotics, fluids and nutrients, and gave him something to get that fever down a bit. Your physician was correct in his assessment: you have double pneumonia, a rather serious infection, I might add. We took an x-ray to confirm that diagnosis, just to be sure. I see you’re breathing a lot better with the oxygen?” 

Vader nodded. 

“I’ll keep you on that for a while longer and see how you’re doing tomorrow. Your family probably wants to know if you’ll be home for Christmas.”

“They’re not-” Vader started.

“Shut up. We are too. And yes, we do want to know,” Ahsoka interrupted. 

Doctor Myst looked slightly bemused at the spectacle, but continued just as professionally as before. “I think he can get out of here in a few days. Let’s aim for Christmas Eve, shall we? If you continue to do better at this rate, that shouldn’t be a problem at all. Bear in mind that it might be at least another week before the fever disappears. I’d recommend to stay on bed rest until then, and definitely to avoid any strenuous activities for quite a while longer, think in terms of at least a month.”

“This eh, bed rest, how strictly should he adhere to that?” Ahsoka asked. 

“Considering the state in which he arrived here yesterday, quite strictly,” doctor Myst said, raising her eyebrows. 

Luke couldn’t help but laugh at the disappointment flooding Ahsoka’s face. “Yeah, but can we also make that… couch rest, or something?”

“I guess so? Just… As long as you get sufficient sleep and make resting your primary objective for now. A peaceful environment is a requirement for that.” At those last words, she pointedly looked at Ahsoka, who entered sulk modus. 

“So… Two more days under her tyrannical regime. Will you manage, or do we have to smuggle you out?” Ahsoka asked once doctor Myst had left the room, on to the next patient.

Vader smiled. “I think I’ll manage.” He sounded tired. 

“We should let you sleep, eh,” Ahsoka said. “We brought you some stuff, and your chair, by the way. Do you want it?”

“Yes, please,” he said, looking relieved. 

“I’ll go get it!” She practically skipped out of the room.

“Is she always so…”

“Energetic, you mean? Oh yes.” Somehow, now they were alone and there wasn’t a whiteboard or algebra to connect them, silence descended again. 

“Come here, sit,” Vader said, patting the bed next to him. “Don’t just stand there.”

Luke came up to him and sat at the edge of the bed. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Vader began. “Do you remember that after we first met you asked me why I did what I did? Why I let you stay the weekends?”

Luke nodded.

“I said I wasn’t sure. But that wasn’t really true. Listen, it’s not easy for me to talk about this, but I should. You deserve that.” He was quiet for a while, taking off the oxygen mask. “You looked at me when you talked to me. You did that straight away, when we met. By doing so, you treated me as a human being.” He stopped to breathe into the mask. “People usually don’t. I wanted more of that. To feel human again. So my reasons were partially selfish.”

“That’s okay,” Luke said quickly. “I understand. You treated me as a human being too. I’m usually just the poor orphan.” Never before had he spoken those words out loud, but they’d resonated deep inside him all along. 

They were quiet for a while, but it was a silence of a different nature. This one was good. A hundred things passed between them.

“Perhaps we needed each other,” Vader offered. “I’ll try to be more open to you from now on. And you shouldn’t be afraid to ask me things anymore.”

“I’m not afraid to ask you things,” Luke said.

“Ahsoka told me you were scared I didn’t want your company anymore, yesterday.”

Luke nodded reluctantly. “I’m not now.”

“You shouldn’t be. Will you tell me from now on if you feel like that?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice small. “I’ll tell you.” He wiped his eyes against the rapidly forming tears, not the first time today.

“Good.” Vader placed the oxygen mask back on his face. “That’s good. There’s something else you should know. I was… unkind to you before. But I didn’t mean to worry you. You see, a long time ago, I was married, and I was to have a son. They died. He would have been your age, perhaps even shared your birthday. Probably looked like you. For a long time, I was afraid I looked into the mirror of a past that didn’t exist when I looked at you. It’s… confronting. And you became the victim of that.” 

Luke had no idea what to feel at these words - there was sadness, but also anger. Anger, that Vader might have had a son, and he, the nobody, was only of value because he was mistaken for another. Sadness, that being _Luke_ didn’t really mean anything after all for Vader. Sadness, also, because the man lying next to him, who looked up at him right now, had to go through that, and sadness because he realised they were both unsure of what their relationship really entailed, really meant. 

“Luke… I am grateful,” Vader said, and he squeezed Luke’s hand, just as Ahsoka entered. 

“Am I interrupting the feels?” she asked, pushing Vader’s chair in and leaving it next to the bed, where he could easily reach it. 

“No. We had just finished.”

“You made him cry. Give him a hug, at least.”

They looked at each other, discomfort painting their faces. Luke smiled at Ahsoka’s impatient sigh, reached out. The tenseness in the air retreated, but had not disappeared. This conversation had only opened the scabs, of old and deep wounds.

“You men… I really don’t get you, to be honest. A little emotion has never hurt anyone. Anyway. Now, on to the business of the day. You, sleep and get better,” and she pointed at Vader. “And then I was thinking Luke should of course stay over the Christmas break, which happens to start tomorrow. We’ll go and arrange that.” 

“I’ll not ask you how you plan to do that,” Vader said.

“No, it’s better you don’t. See you tomorrow.” She blew him a kiss.

Vader waved them off.

 

***

 

Ahsoka made a phone call Luke didn’t catch the details of, and then they drove off. “We almost forgot the most important thing of all,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“A Christmas tree of course!”

And that’s how the drive back became very uncomfortable, involving needles pricking in their backs, as Ahsoka had overestimated the size of her car, and underestimated the size of the tree, and she probably did so on purpose. “So tell me everything there is to tell about that orphanage of yours,” Ahsoka said.

“Erm… It’s quite strict. School isn’t very good. Not much fun, really.”

“The director, is it someone who’s easily impressed by authority?”

“The only time I ever saw her concede to something or someone was to Vader. And he can be downright scary.”

“Yeah, so can I. Watch me.”

“Right. If you say so.” Luke looked at her hesitantly. 

“Have a little fate, Luke. You’re only doubting me because I’m a girl, aren’t you?” They spent most of the ride back in silence, or rather, not speaking. Calling it silence was stretching things a little too far. Ahsoka was singing along with her playlist. Luke hoped she was better at being scary than at singing. She drove straight to the orphanage, and he worried what kind of impression her car would make. It did not make her more scary, to say the least, especially not stuffed with Christmas tree, as was the case. The idea of now having to return depressed Luke immensely, although… perhaps it would be easier. He still wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel.  

“Come on,” Ahsoka spurred him into action. He followed her, wondering when exactly his life had become so weird. He led her to the headmistress’ office, much like he had led Vader here before. That seemed a century ago now. She knocked, barely waited for an answer and waltzed in. The headmistress had to recover from that a few seconds, she wasn’t used to people behaving around her in such a fashion. “Can I help you?” she said finally. 

Ahsoka’s demeanour changed instantly upon entering the room. “Major Tano, Air Force. Pleased to meet you,” and she stuck out her hand, shook Mothma’s offered hand firmly. She was all business, hands folded on her back, legs slightly spread. Luke had to admit he was pretty impressed.

“I’ve come to collect the boy. You have been notified, I believe.”

Mothma nodded. “Yes,” she looked surprised. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t expected you so quickly. You are so kind to go through all this trouble. The boy could use some discipline, I don’t know what’s gotten in him as of late, and this institution is proud that it can contribute.” She barely looked at Luke, focussed as she was on Ahsoka, almost rambled.

Ahsoka nodded briskly. “Duly noted. Kindness has nothing to do with it. You’ll receive the necessary paperwork in the mail. If that was all…?”

“I wouldn’t want to hold you up, of course. Thank you again.”

And that was that. They’d been inside less than a minute, and Mothma had surrendered him to Ahsoka’s care without a protest. 

“What just happened?” Luke asked, wary, once they were back in the car. 

Ahsoka couldn’t stop laughing, tears were streaming down her face, and Luke was scared they’d get involved in an accident like this. “That was absolutely priceless. She thinks I’m shipping you off to military camp now.”

“She _what_?” 

“Honestly, this was even easier than I’d imagined. So, this is what I did. I called my superior, who knew Anakin well in his previous life, and explained about him being ill, and that he needs you to look after him until he’s better. And I asked him for a little favour. So he called Mothma and said a common acquaintance had suggested you’d be the perfect candidate. That you could use a little exercise and all that, and might consider a career in the military in the future. So there you go.”

“Are you really a major?”

“Oh yeah, that part was all true. Google me. You’ll see. Really fetching pictures too.”

“Erm, yeah, I’ll take your word for it. I can’t believe we got away with that.”

“Oh Luke, it’s so simple. People have an insane amount of respect for the military, especially around here. For many, it’s the only option to escape poverty. Secondly, people naturally love surrendering to an authoritative voice. Makes things easier. You don’t have to think for yourself, and don’t have to take personal responsibility as a consequence.” 

He nodded slowly. She was way wiser than she might appear at first sight. Underneath that bouncy, cheerful persona there was a no nonsense attitude and a keen insight in the workings of the world. She’d been loyal to Vader all those years. She probably went through enough herself. 

“Now, time to enjoy some well-earned freedom! Don’t worry, I brought everything we need. Ever played a video game, Luke? Have you seen that monster tv in the living room? Can’t believe he actually got it. It was my suggestion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, I've updated every Saturday. I probably won't manage to do so next week. I'm sorry. But be comforted that the last chapter will be extra long, and will solve all the mysteries. There might be an epilogue too, though I'm not sure yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... There we go. It took me a month instead of the expected two weeks, for which I'm really sorry, but it also turned out to be much longer than I'd originally planned. At almost 13.000 words, I briefly considered splitting it up, as there's a wonderful cliffhanger almost exactly in the middle, but I didn't want to be that awful - and it would have changed the entire story's dynamic. Hope you enjoy and yes... It's a long read, I'm aware!  
> 

They were both tired by the time they got back to Vader’s house. Ahsoka put the Christmas tree in a corner of the living room, next to one of the bookcases, and sent Vader a selfie of her and Luke in front of it. “I could have guessed,” he texted back immediately, which elicited a delighted giggle from Ahsoka. They spent the evening hanging on the couch, Ahsoka playing a game called Constellation Conquest, Luke reading, or mostly pretending to read and following her exploits on the screen instead. He was restless and had a hard time focussing on his book, his mind going in circles, too exhausted by everything that had happened in the past two days to think straight, but at the same time unable to shut down his brain.

“What is it, Luke?” Ahsoka asked. “You’re sighing.”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

She let it go, her attention on the game again.

“Do you think I look like him?” Luke asked five minutes of fidgeting later.

“Like whom? You mean like Vader?” Her gaze briefly flickered over to Luke, lingered for a second, then she paused the game. “If you hadn’t asked, I probably wouldn’t have noticed,” she said slowly, her eyes raking over Luke’s features. “But now you mention it… Yes. You look an awful lot like him when he was younger. That is so weird.” She continued to look at Luke, pensively, her stare making him uncomfortable. “What prompted this question?”

“He said he had a son. Or almost had a son. Something like that. And that he probably would have looked like me.”

Ahsoka was quiet for a minute, then began to talk, weighing her words carefully. “It’s not my story to tell, but perhaps it will help you understand. His wife was kidnapped while heavily pregnant, then murdered, by Palpatine. I told you about him, right? Witnesses in court confirmed that the child was born first and Palpatine ordered it to be killed as well. The baby was never found though, and the accounts of how it all unfolded were rather vague. But with Palpatine dead there was only a handful of people, some of them still boys really, left who’d been involved with just one tiny piece of the puzzle, had clearly been in over their heads and barely knew half of what had been going on.”

Luke shivered. “That’s gruesome,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she answered. It felt as if the evening chill had found them, despite the warmth of the room. “You’re scared that Vader sees you as someone or something you’re not?” she then guessed. 

Luke shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m thinking right now. It doesn’t matter anyway. I mean, that’s so terrible, what happened to him. I can’t imagine.”

“I don’t think anyone can ever imagine something like that to happen to them,” Ahsoka said softly. “But Luke, that doesn’t make your feelings right now any less legitimate.”

“I know. It just… doesn’t seem important in comparison, you know?”

“It took Vader a really long time to learn to live with the past. And I mean, years, many years. I don’t think he sees you as an extension of that past. You probably reminded him of what he lost at first. Maybe that played a role when you just met, subconsciously. But the way he talks about you… He really sees you for who you are, Luke, not as a ghost from a dead past. Don’t be afraid.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded stiffly. They didn’t talk for a while, Luke nervous and anticipatory, because Ahsoka hadn’t returned her attention to her game again and still looked at him intensely, and so they sat opposite each other, each at one end of the couch in the half-lit room, their legs drawn up.

“I was wondering…” she began, “what do you know about your parents, of your own past?”

He shook his head. “I was brought to the orphanage by a man named Piett. He said I was his sister’s child. That’s my last name too, by the way.”

“Piett?” Ahsoka furrowed her brow. “Your name is Piett? You’re sure?”

“Erm… yeah? I think I know my own name?”

“That is _so_ weird,” she muttered. “Really weird.”

“What is?”

“It all just seems too much of a coincidence. Then again, life sometimes is like that…” she stared at a point in the distance, ignoring Luke. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, growing impatient at her atypical behaviour.

“I’m not sure, Luke. I’ll have to think on this first. It’s just that, I heard of a man named Piett before, who used to live in this area, a long time ago. And it’s not a very common name.”

“Really? You think you know my family? You know… he actually came back for me. A few weeks ago. He wanted to talk to me, but I… wasn’t there at the time. I didn’t hear from him since.”

“Woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. But you said he came back? To see you? Do you know anything else, where he lives perhaps, or contact details?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Ahsoka was deep in thought. “It’s late, we’re both tired,” she said after a while. “Let’s forget this for now, and try to enjoy the upcoming week. It’s been a crazy few days, but everything turned out fine. It’s Christmas. We have a holiday to celebrate. But I promise I’ll do my best to find out what’s going on. Later. You have my word.”

“Okay. Erm, thanks, I guess. You don’t have to, you know.”

“You don’t want to know who your family is?”

“Of course I do!” Luke said heatedly. “Or, well… Part of me does. I think everybody wants to know  who their family is, right? But I don’t believe in fairytales and I also think that maybe I’m better off not knowing. So I can make something of myself without that shadow hanging over me. People don’t end up where I live because everything was going so well. I’ve heard some people’s life stories. They’re not nice, you know.”

Ahsoka nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re very wise for your age. I wasn’t thinking. I understand you must have thought of this a great deal over the years. It was thoughtless of me.”

“It’s all right. And if you do find something, well… let me know? I’m not sure yet.”

Luke lay staring at the ceiling for hours that night, unable to sleep, an indistinct itch tickling the edge of his consciousness each time he almost fell asleep, a faint whisper, as if a chain of events had been set in motion this evening, something bigger than himself, and he heard the future rushing towards him. Eventually he slept and dreamt, but didn’t remember his dreams when he woke up, much later than usual, feeling surprisingly well-rested. Unbeknownst to Luke, Ahsoka stayed awake till the early hours of the morning as well, using every ounce of skill at googling she possessed, but without result. Piett, that was a name she hadn’t heard for a long time. 

When it happened she was there, and witnessed it, powerless to interfere or aid in any way whatsoever, until after what seemed like an eternity a helicopter flew him away. She’d never forget how she watched it fly off, remained standing there long after it had disappeared from view and how she was afraid, almost sure, she’d never see him again, that she’d drive to the hospital and when she arrived, they’d tell her despite their best efforts he’d died on the way, simply too damaged to pull through. She envisioned, while she stood there on the tarmac in an almost meditative stance, how she’d collapse right then and there. But while she watched that heli take off, that moment hadn’t arrived yet, and she felt calm, sedated, her grief still held at bay by the knowledge that she had to get to her car and drive it first, a simple enough operation she’d performed a million times before, and she could do so once more. For him. To accompany him as life left him, to not let him undertake that journey alone. But he hadn’t died when she arrived, and she sank down in a chair when she heard that, her knees finally buckling. They warned her it was still unlikely he would survive, but she barely heard it, because she was sure that he would now. He’d made it this far after all. Ahsoka called Schmi then, comforted her, and calmly, efficiently, booked a taxi and a flight for her to come over straight away. His mother stayed at their place the next few months, sleeping in her son’s bed, and Ahsoka was secretly glad for it, because it gave her someone to look after, a coping strategy that always worked well for her and that she’d undoubtedly inherited from her own mother. Schmi, in turn, spent her every waking minute at her son’s side, loving him unconditionally and never once cringing or crying over the reduced state of his body and looks - she was simply there, aiding him with that unshakeable determination of hers, that he’d survive and thrive again. Her countenance gave Ahsoka the strength she too needed, to believe that everything would turn out fine.

While Vader rehabilitated, she followed every snippet of news on his accident, the investigation and Palpatine and Padmé’s death obsessively, whilst shielding him from all of it once he was conscious, as the continued exposure to the press’ obsession with the case wasn’t beneficial to his wellbeing or mental health, especially while he was still struggling to let it all sink in. Piett’s name had been mentioned several times in the reports and he’d been asked to step forward as a witness at some point, but he’d never been found. Now too, years after that whole business, it appeared as if this Piett had simply vanished in thin air; except for a few old references which briefly mentioned his name in connection to his old employer Palpatine it was as if he didn’t exist. She swore not to mention anything to Luke or Vader until she’d solved this mystery, but there was something fishy going on. When Luke had looked up at her, earlier that evening, fixed her with his blue eyes, it felt as if she was struck by lightning. Luke’s conflicted emotions were plain for all to see on his face. That complete openness had reminded her of someone. Anakin had always worn his heart on his sleeve as well. Just imagine what kind of Christmas gift this could turn out to be. Her heart beat faster at the thought, yet a part of her also hoped that her conjectures wouldn’t prove to be true: if her suspicions turned out to be correct, father and son had been separated for nothing all those years, a fate that, on top of everything else Anakin had had to endure, seemed all too cruel and arbitrary, as if even that bit of happiness hadn’t been granted him. And she wasn’t all that sure of how Vader would react. But, and she shook her head to clear it of these unrealistic thoughts, she was probably afraid for no reason, concocting far-fetched tales to satisfy her own desire for closure. Vader and Luke were, against all odds, simply becoming friends, a less unlikely pair than one might think at first sight, because they filled a void in each other’s lives. Her imagination was running wild, taken over by the ghosts of the night.

 

***

 

“Do you have any favourite Christmas traditions?” Ahsoka asked over breakfast, although brunch was a more apt description at this time of day.

“I’m not the right person to ask,” Luke said, grimacing. “At the orphanage we were supposed to sing Christmas carols together before bed, and that was that. Our hearts were not really in it, you could say. But we didn’t exactly have a choice, it was pretty dictatorial. Like, enforced holiday cheer. Or gloom. Whatever. I mean, you’ve seen Mothma. She conducted us.”

Ahsoka burst out laughing. “I just can’t. Cheer and that woman. I don’t really see it, that’s totally Soviet holiday cheer. Oh my god.”

Luke grinned. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“How about the both of us cook up a Christmas meal tomorrow? Vader will probably be pretty sick still, but we all have to eat. It could be fun.”

“I love that idea,” Luke breathed. 

They drove off not long after that. Luke noticed he felt less hesitant when walking up to Vader’s room than yesterday, Ahsoka’s pep talk had inspired some confidence in him, and after yesterday’s events, he didn’t feel so out of place anymore. He was wanted here. Just like the day before, Ahsoka hugged Vader in greeting, conveniently ignoring the fact that he in general was not really the hugging type. Vader, apparently, had learned to accept this from her as he underwent it without complaint. Although there were still dark circles around his eyes like he hadn’t slept in years, he also seemed undeniably better, his breathing not so laboured anymore, his bearing more at ease in general. He’d been taken off the extra oxygen just that morning and it seemed to go well. 

“So, doctor Myst came to visit me again this morning,” he said. “To inquire if I’d be okay with going home tomorrow. Adding I could probably stay a few days longer if I wished. In case I felt I couldn’t get the required peace at home.”

Ahsoka sniggered, a devilish glint in her eyes. “So what did you answer?”

“I told her you are better behaved when there aren’t any authority figures in the immediate vicinity.”

“Aw, come on. You make me sound like a child.”

“You are pouting right now,” Vader pointed out. 

Luke smiled at the exchange, bemused. There was a certain lightness in the air that he hadn’t noticed before. It was as if Ahsoka’s presence had unlocked the mystery that was Vader, in a way.

“So you’re coming home tomorrow?” Luke added to the conversation, almost feeling like an intruder, breaking up their familiar banter. He’d never seen Vader this relaxed, and he observed Ahsoka’s affection towards him with something that was not quite jealousy, but definitely yearning. He wanted that too. 

“Yes,” Vader said. “I can’t leave you alone with her any longer now, can I?” 

Luke smiled. “No. You really can’t. She’s horrible.” And that’s how easily he became implicated in their covenant.  

Ahsoka insisted on buying Luke a decent winter coat after they left, despite his protests. He was no match for her, as her vehemence easily overruled his objections. Suffering through several stores and her critique on every single piece of clothing that passed through her hands, in the end convinced Luke that _he_ was in fact doing her a favour, and he was the victim here. That alleviated the stab of guilt at having someone else having to buy clothes for him. Afterwards, they ended up at the Natural History Museum, watching dinosaur skeletons, and had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant. Ahsoka ordered an outrageous amount of ice-cream for desert, and Luke wondered how a woman with an appetite like hers could be so skinny. 

“I work out a lot,” she said. 

Apparently he’d spoken that thought out loud, and he blushed.

“Relax,” she smiled. “I wonder too. My mother warned me endlessly I’d get fat after I turned thirty, like all the women in my family. Didn’t happen. Then she changed her tune to thirty-five, then forty, but I’ve reached the blessed age of forty-three by now and still haven’t turned in an elephant. She complains about it whenever I see her. Jealous, of course.”

“You’re forty-three?” Luke exclaimed. “Geesh. Old.”

“Why, thank you, Prince Charming.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m a teenager. Twenty is old to me.”

“It’s okay. I’m a black woman who’s an officer in the airforce. I’m sturdy. I can handle it.” She threw him a grin.

“How old is Vader?”

“Forty-four.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Oh, let’s see. A loooong time. We met when he was finishing up his bachelor’s degree in mathematics. I studied computer sciences. So we were… twenty-one, twenty-two? Really old in your book,” Ahsoka smiled. “We lived as roommates for years, you know. Trained to be a pilot together. Then flew together. It was friendship at first sight, and that never changed since we first met. And you? Any friends or best friends?”

“Not really. The orphanage isn’t really a place that encourages you to form friendships. And I don’t really know any other people outside the orphanage, well, except for you and Vader now. There’s Biggs. He’s a year older than I am. He’s nice, we talk sometimes. But we’re not really friends, not like you guys. He hangs out with people his own age mostly, and the kids in my year… well, they’re just not that talkative.”

“And you are? Talkative?”

“Ah… Maybe not. Not really,” he conceded. “Fair point.”

“You didn’t really strike me as Mr Chatterbox.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s true.” 

“Let’s go home. We have a long day tomorrow,” Ahsoka said, and it was true, they did: they had a holiday to prepare. Luke couldn’t help but feel excited at that idea - it was his first proper holiday, after all. They drove the long way back in the dark, and in silence, but it was a companionable silence, full of expectations for the days to come. When they arrived home - when had Vader’s house suddenly become home? Luke wondered. Well, if he was honest and discounted his moments of anxiety, that had happened almost immediately after they met - he and Ahsoka went to bed pretty soon. 

“Hey, practical things on the agenda,” Ahsoka said the next morning, a little too early to Luke’s tastes, but she’d left him no choice. “We need an extra bed. Vader’s obviously not going to agree with me sleeping in his when he’s back.” 

“You’re right, I hadn’t thought of that. I can sleep on the couch, no problem.”

Ahsoka snorted. “Don’t be silly. There’s all these empty rooms upstairs. Which one would you like? Or I can pick another one, of course, you spent so much time in that room it’s as good as yours now.”

“That’s _your_ room! No… Look, I can’t accept this. Besides, we’re in _Vader’s_ house.”

“Don’t worry, he’s all right with it. We discussed this. And it’s only normal.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Luke replied slowly. “I’ve never had a room.”

“Now you do. If you make up your mind that is.”

“I know which one I’d like.” He’d imagined what the sunrise would look like from the empty room in the most eastern part of the house at one point, the room that was probably supposed to be the master bedroom. Its size wasn’t the reason he picked it, but that imagined view of the sun - it had been winter already when he pictured it - was glorious, and had made something click in his mind. He wasn’t sure yet what it meant, but it was important. 

“Okay, great. So we’ll arrange at least a bed today, and sort out the rest later. Choose one,” and she passed him her phone. 

He felt lost, scrolling through the catalogue she’d opened, unsure what to do faced with so much choice, but eventually he settled on a simple, classic design. Afterwards, they busied themselves doing the dishes, cleaning up, picking out recipes for dinner and doing laundry, and Luke was actually having fun with the chores. It didn’t feel like work, they were making the house habitable and ready to be lived in. When Ahsoka looked strangely at how he smiled, he found it hard to explain. He’d just never been part of such a setting before. Homely, was the word he was looking for, a word he’d of course heard before, but had never had a true understanding of.

By the time they’d finished, it was long past noon already, and Vader had apped he’d officially been released. The last task Ahsoka applied herself to before they left - her crowning achievement (her words) - was decorating the tree. And then they were on the road again, and Luke was beginning to feel like a real adventurer, driving along in cool cars and going to the city every day and _god_! He was practically a real cosmopolitan at this rate. 

When they arrived at the hospital Vader was waiting for them, dressed and ready to go. Luke realised he’d never seen Vader use, or even _in_ , his chair before. It was strange at first - usually he towered over pretty much everyone and with his wide frame, dominated every room without even trying. Now, as Luke walked next to him, they were almost at the same level, although, Luke had to admit grudgingly, because of his small stature even now Vader didn’t have to look up. As they walked side by side through the corridor and Vader briefly looked at him as he pointed out they needed to pick up his medication first, a small shock travelled through Luke’s body. There was suddenly so little distance between them and the intensity of Vader’s gaze from this close took him by surprise again. When they’d first met, he’d always felt like a little rabbit caught in the headlights whenever their eyes met, but after a while he’d realised Vader didn’t necessarily mean anything by it: he simply had these incredibly blue eyes, and coupled with his pretty much always serious expression and habit of looking people directly and unblinkingly in the eye, it felt as if he saw straight into Luke’s soul and was aware of every little thing he thought about or felt. They passed dr. Myst in the corridor, and Ahsoka cheerfully waved at her. 

“Did you see that,” she said, ushering both of them to a stop just before they reached the revolving doors. She took off her scarf and wrapped it tightly around Vader’s neck, who unsuccessfully tried to ward her off. “I think she liked me. She smiled at me just now.”

“Who?” Luke asked, dumbfounded.

“Why, doctor Myst of course!”

“Oh… erm…”

“I think that was a professional attempt not to grimace rather than a smile,” Vader intervened diplomatically.

“You think so?” Ahsoka’s face fell.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure, but-“

“Yeah,” Luke said quickly. “Definitely was.”

“Ah well,” she sighed, “I always fall for the wrong girls.”

By the time they’d reached the car Vader was winded, but he recovered quickly and when they drove off, they all were in good spirits. When they pulled up at the driveway of the house, Luke couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Through the window, you could see the lights of the Christmas tree inside. Ahsoka hovered over Vader when they got out of the car. He’d never cared about the house’s surroundings and hadn’t had a decent drive or even pathway constructed. Instead, the wild grass had been allowed to flourish, though now, in the winter months, it was mostly dead. With the snow and uneven underground, it took him quite some effort to get to the house in his chair, but, annoyed, he refused Ahsoka’s help and managed well enough. 

Entering the hallway, he sighed. “It’s good to be home,” he clarified, then pointedly looked at the tree in the living room. “You know, I’d expected worse. This isn’t bad.” 

“Why, thank you,” Ahsoka beamed. “Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment.” 

“Don’t get any further ideas,” Vader muttered.

“Do you want to take a nap? Or eat something?”

“Ahsoka… You’re not going to act like a worried mother hen around me, are you?” he inquired mildly.

“Clearly someone has to!”

“No, they don’t. I promise. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I _will_ , as you put it so eloquently, ‘take a nap.’ Alone.”

Luke looked after him as he left the room. “Is he angry?” he asked. He felt uneasy, as if a storm was brewing that was still hidden behind the horizon, but the smell of ozone unmistakably spoke of thunder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ahsoka said, though she sounded more serious than usual. “He’s not angry. And definitely not with you. He’s right though, I do tend to act like a mother hen towards him sometimes. And I should stop doing that. Now, how about you and I start baking that cake for desert?”

Luke had never baked before, and soon discovered he loved it. Ahsoka was a mess in the kitchen, which was part of the fun in this case, and after they’d put their triple-layer chocolate pie in the oven, they went to assemble Luke’s new bed which had been delivered in the meantime, to Luke’s unbelievable and heartwarmingly naive amazement. The internet was a mysterious kind of magic to him, as he’d grown up more isolated than Ahsoka could imagine. It was nearing five by the time they were finished, so they went on to start on dinner. 

“Smells great in here,” came Vader’s voice from the doorway at some point. 

“Thanks to him,” Ahsoka said, nodding at Luke, who smiled in response. It was not entirely true, but definitely not false either. 

“Of course,” Vader said. “Without me, she’d have eaten a lot of dry bread in her life.”

“I actually _can_ cook these days, you know.”

“Thank the stars for that, considering you’re standing at my stove right now.”

“How do you feel?” Luke later asked, just as worried about him as she was, the residue of this past weekend, but swallowing it down, considering Vader’s obvious chagrin at Ahsoka’s earlier concern. He sat on the couch next to Vader while dinner was cooking. Ahsoka’d gone outside for a moment, always unable to sit still for long.

“Tired, but better. Have you chosen a room? Is it to your liking?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I don’t know how to thank you. So… You’re definitely okay with it? It’s not just something Ahsoka thought up?”

“Of course not. You have a place in this house. Thank you for looking after it the past few days.”

Luke shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did a lot. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“You do loads for me too. I mean, it’s only normal, right?”

“I guess in an ideal world it would be normal. But this is hardly an ideal world, now it is? You have a big heart. I hope that never changes. And I’ll try my best to protect it from those who mean it harm.” He grabbed Luke’s hand and just held it, looking him in the eyes in that unnerving manner of his. “I can’t thank you enough. Please remember that.”

Luke nodded mutely. The storm had abated for now and his heart rate went down again.

 

***

 

At this time of year on the northern hemisphere the days were short and the nights long. It was Luke’s favourite. He had always felt at home in the winter darkness, an old trusted friend that offered him the required space for his moods and thoughts, passing no judgment. Now he enjoyed it for different reasons. At first, Vader slept most of the day, and once Ahsoka had assured herself of the fact that Luke really did prefer to spend his time reading, she’d turned to her own favourite pastimes. The sun set by four in the afternoon and by five it was entirely dark outside, and then they sought each other out, moving to the living room from the respective places they’d spent their days - Luke, with Vader’s express permission, on his suggestion even, in the study, though even in Vader’s absence he always sat in his usual spot and never presumed to take up Vader’s seat; Ahsoka either came back from a run or hike or hung on the couch, focussed on her games; and Vader from his bedroom or any other place that allowed him to read and nap intermittently in silence. They spent the evenings talking lazily, eating, watching movies while alternately falling asleep, and generally being together. The atmosphere was one of easy camaraderie.

As the days passed something akin to peace was beginning to come over Luke, like a warm blanket that slowly settled over him after a long cold day. One morning he woke up and realised he wasn’t counting the hours and days till he had to return to the orphanage compulsively anymore, the dread of that moment no longer determining his every waking moment. A spike of acute discomfort briefly hit his gut when he thought of that place again, but as he walked down the stairs and saw Vader sitting at the kitchen table, who asked him if he’d slept well, and he helped himself to fresh toast, it disappeared again as an echo from a distant past and the lull of this house and time and its people comfortably picked him up and he allowed himself to drift on it again. He helped cooking dinner, that was his contribution to the household, at first with Ahsoka’s Youtube assisted help, with mixed results, but after a few days Vader began to walk around the house again and announced he would take over, now he was slowly feeling better. This allowed Luke to really enjoy it, as Vader knew exactly what he was doing and seemed to sense every time without exception when Luke needed instructions, or when he could be left to his own devices. 

And so the days passed, and almost automatically they’d found a rhythm that suited them. Life seemed suspiciously harmonious, but all that quickly went downhill when one day, wholly unexpected, the doorbell rang.

***

 

When the doorbell rang, they all startled. Who could possibly be looking for any of them? It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. None of them was specifically aware of that fact at the time, but when reconstructing the specific order of the events that next unfolded in hindsight, that was more or less the time Luke arrived at. Luke immediately was filled with dread, his heart pounding, scared that someone from the orphanage or some government agency had come to take him away, and possibly charge Vader and Ahsoka with kidnapping, and so he did leave the study where he sat with Vader at the time, but hung back in the kitchen when Ahsoka went to the door, listening in to the ensuing conversation. Vader did not feel this reservation and walked up to Ahsoka, who was her usual bubbly self when she greeted the stranger:

A man of slightly below average height, with no remarkable features, who answered Ahsoka’s cheerful greeting with a fairly nervously sounding: “Erm… Hello. I was wondering, I’m looking for a boy called Luke and was told I might find him here perchance?”

And when Luke heard his name, time seemed to slow down and crystallise around him and he suddenly understood, with clarity, that of course everything came tumbling down now, the good things had lasted much longer than he’d believed possible as it were.

“I was told in the village he sometimes spends time here. I was wondering if I could talk to him, I’ve been trying to reach him for a while now, but somehow we always missed each other. Sorry, my manners. My name is Firmus Piett.”

From that point onwards Luke couldn’t remember what was said next, or what happened precisely, because at hearing that name, his own last name, everything went black. He didn’t faint per se (this isn’t a fairytale after all and Luke sure is no damsel in distress), but he definitely was distracted.

This is what happened: Ahsoka was momentarily stunned and looked at that small and mousy man slack-jawed. Then she said: “You really don’t look like Luke. You’re not anything alike.” When Vader heard Piett introducing himself, recognising Luke’s last name, he’d stopped in his tracks in the doorway between the living room and the entrance hall, briefly thinking about how he would react if the most likely scenario was about to play out now, namely that this man, Piett, was going to tell Luke about his family and introduce him to them, effectively taking him away from him. Ahsoka needed only a second to recover, and she swiftly took control of things. “Mr Piett,” she said, “Might I have a word with you first? I know who you are, and I believe you know me too, or at least, will recognise my name.”

“Oh… er… Yes, of course,” he replied, offering Ahsoka a half-smile, meant to be disarming, but clearly uncomfortable.

She took Piett by his elbow, directed him to the kitchen, gently pushed Luke to the living room, and closed the door behind him. Luke went to sit down on the couch, and what was probably several minutes later, looked up to Vader, who still stood in the doorway, though he was facing Luke directly now. They both looked equally lost.

 

***

 

“Piett,” Ahsoka said slowly. “I’m just theorising here right now, but indulge me, please. You’re here to tell Luke that ‘Piett’ is not really his family name, right?”

“How do you know?” he stuttered in reply.

“I wasn’t sure, to be fair. You just confirmed it for me. I was actually afraid I was getting carried away by wishful thinking, though a lot of things didn’t seem to add up.”

“Who are you?” Piett asked, hesitantly.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she said, waiting if that sparked a response. 

It took a moment, but she got the reaction she’d been hoping for. “You were… Anakin Skywalker’s co-pilot?”

“First wingmate. And this is where things went wrong. You see… not ‘were’, or ‘was’, but ‘am’. Though in a less literall sense these days than you mean. You are in his house.”

“What?” Piett looked confused.

“This is Anakin Skywalker’s house. And when I just guided you to this kitchen, you walked past him.”

“But that’s impossible… Skywalker’s dead…”

“Looks pretty alive to me. You were here to tell his son about his parentage, yes? Now he’s old enough to hear, and you came out of wherever you spent the past decade and a half of your sorry excuse?”

“Yes,” Piett whispered. “But his parents died years ago! I saw _her_ die, though I swear I had nothing to do with it, and Palpatine… he said he’d, well… what he’d done to him. How did he survive that? What you say can’t be true!”

“He very nearly didn’t. Anyway, it is true. I only had suspicions, but you’ve more or less confirmed them for me now. I’m not sure… what to feel or think. Just say it out loud for me, to be sure: Luke is Anakin’s son?”

“Yes,” Piett whispered.

“Okay,” she sighed in reply. “Well. Anakin’s not dead. He believed his son to have died with Padmé, his mother, all these years. He and Luke got to know each other by accident. They have no idea.”

Piett shook his head. “I tried to do good, you know.”

“I’m not your partner in crime here,” she said coldly, rearing up in anger. “I just wanted to test my theories before this trainwreck was to unfold. To protect those two,” and she pointed at the living room. “If you got your hands on Luke when he was pretty much a newborn, you can probably explain what exactly happened those days. Tell me what happened back then,” she ground out forcibly, her own memories of those awful days flashing past her mind’s eye.

 

***

 

“Anakin, calm down, there’s probably a rational explanation for this!” Ahsoka shouted, trying to reason with him.

“She’s been gone for two days without apping me or returning my calls. He’s behind it, I just know it.” He turned to face her directly, towering over her and scaring her for the first time ever; it was the barely suppressed strength and anger in his every movement, the complete lack of reason and the white-hot flame of his anger, his lack of response to her attempts to help.

“I know, I know. But you have to calm down now, we can’t help her in this state. Calm down now, and call Palpatine. Flatter him, say you’ll give in to his demands, I don’t care what you have to do or say. This is about Padmé now.”

 

***

 

But Palpatine didn’t answer his phone, because something he hadn’t foreseen had happened, and he was panicking too.

 

***

 

“Are you aware,” Ahsoka said dangerously, “that because of your cowardice, because you ran instead of stepped forward, Luke grew up away from his father?”

Piett was wringing his hands, looking for all the world like a defeated man. “I didn’t know,” he murmured again. 

She paced through the kitchen like a furious tigress, her anger barely contained. “And equally terrible, because of your cowardice we never really learned what happened. Anakin never got closure. Are you aware of what that does to a person? Can you even imagine?” 

Just then, the kitchen door opened and Vader appeared in the doorway, looking supremely annoyed. “What is going on in here? You’ve been in here quite some time, you’re shouting, and I’ve heard my name several times now. And you, who are you?” He nodded in Piett’s direction.

Ahsoka immediately stopped yelling at his entrance. Piett looked at him as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“Oh Anakin,” she whispered.

He looked vaguely irritated at her addressing him by that name. 

“Perhaps we should talk, all of us. Luke too. This is about him, after all,” she continued softly.

“That would be appreciated,” he said curtly, and preceded them to the living room. He sat down on the chair opposite Luke, who looked dwarfed sitting on the huge black couch, restless and clearly nervous. He kept on looking at Piett, his expression guarded. If he was looking for a family resemblance, he’d be sorely disappointed, because they looked nothing alike, as Ahsoka had already pointed out so bluntly. She pulled out a chair to sit next to Anakin, and Piett, who looked just as nervous, eventually sat down on the couch as well, attempting a watery smile at Luke. 

The atmosphere was tense. All of them were afraid, for a variety of reasons; Luke, that he’d find out something about his ancestry that he’d rather not have known, that he’d always been unwanted, or that the parents he’d never known had lived for years and Piett came to tell him they’d recently passed away, and a part of him wondered if perhaps this Piett would turn out to be his father - something he, remarkably, had no feelings about at all. Vader felt a hollow pit where his heart should be at the thought that Piett might be here to introduce Luke to his long lost family. He wanted the boy to be happy, of course, but he’d probably lose him then, and return to an uninterrupted, quiet life, that only occasionally featured Ahsoka. It was a thought he’d rather not entertain, and it surprised him how strongly he felt about that. He drew these feelings close to him, used them to construct a wall around his deepest fears. Ahsoka rarely shouted and subconsciously he realised that something more was going on. Ahsoka and Piett were afraid for very different reasons. Ahsoka knew what old wounds this would rip open. There was no telling what the reactions would be. She nodded encouragingly at Piett.

Who took a deep breath. “So… I should probably introduce myself properly,” he said, his voice shaky, addressing Luke. “As I said, my name is Firmus Piett. Years ago, I brought you to the nearby orphanage. I gave you my last name and presented myself as your uncle. I knew that because of a chronic lack of money, staff and inspection no one would care to investigate any further. I did that to keep you safe. But the thing is, I’m not really your uncle, and the reasons for your having grown up there are… complex.” He took a deep breath. Except for a slight tremor, Luke didn’t react visibly to that revelation, that disproved the only truth about his origins he’d grown up with.

“So… Who are you then?” Luke asked, his voice guardedly neutral.

Piett hesitated. “At the time of your birth, I was employed by a man named Palpatine.”

Luke sucked in a breath, remembering Ahsoka’s stories. 

“You _what_?” Vader asked, suddenly rigid in his chair. He hadn’t seen this coming, or wanted to see it coming. “You knew this? You know him?” he asked Ahsoka.

“I recognised the name when Luke told me his full name,” she admitted. “I dove deep into Palpatine’s dealings while you were recovering, trying to make sense of it all. I came across his name then. But we never met before today.”

Piett nodded. “I know this comes as a shock to you, but please, let me finish. You need to hear all of it.” He barely dared to look Vader in the eye. “I was one of his personal assistants, mostly delegating tasks to the rest of his staff. For a long time, it was just a job for me. Not something I thought too much about, or felt anything towards. That began to change as the years passed. As I gained his confidence, I learnt more and more about his methods, and began to experience… a growing moral conflict. I should have quit, thought about it, but I was not in a position that I could do that without repercussions. So I stayed on. I shouldn’t have…” Here he broke off, and rubbed his face. No one else in the room said a word. He wouldn’t find sympathy here, if that’s what he was looking for. “Anyway,” he continued, “Palpatine was a narcissist. It took a long time before I realised that. An embarrassingly long time. And narcissists, well, they don’t think like you and me. There was a young man. Who’d offended him. And he felt attached to this young man, not as in, loved him, but they went back a long time, and he was quite possessive of him. So when this man refused to do something he’d asked, Palpatine was furious. He tried everything to convince said man of his vision, and when he failed, his reaction was… out of proportion. I’d heard stories of things like that happening before, but I’d never paid them any mind, figured that if they were true, he wouldn’t be a free man anymore. That was naive of me. And that young man had a wife, who was pregnant. Palpatine had her kidnapped, to put pressure on him. He’d do anything to get her back, he said, and things would be right again, according to his twisted ideas of right and wrong. As you can hear, he was deluded.” Piett said all of this as if in a trance, pale, sweating, staying close to the basics and not going into detail, voice quiet, as if he braced himself for the storm and was conserving energy to face it. “I prepared for this day, for this speech, for years, but I never realised-”

Vader had gripped the armrests of his chair as the story progressed, his knuckles white. He sat deadly quiet, his gaze afixed to Piett, eyes ablaze. Ahsoka looked at him worriedly, seemed to move towards him, to put her hand on his arm, decided against it. She looked terribly uncomfortable. 

“She was brought to one of his warehouses, and kept there, not too far from here. It was only supposed to be for a few days. She was alone, no one else was there with her. And at some point, not long after she was brought there, she must have gone into labour, brought on by stress, probably. I didn’t know any of this, Palpatine didn’t trust anyone more than was necessary, you see, he was probably the only one who was aware of the full scope of all his plans. But I got a panicked phone call at night, from a colleague, who’d been contacted by someone else, who’d been contacted by someone else, etcetera. It was a long chain. No one wanted to take responsibility. That was how I found out what was going on. She’d been in labour for hours and hours and hours. I acted independently then, got in my car, feeling someone had to do something, and went there. She was still alive when I arrived, but as soon I as entered the room I saw things didn’t look good. The child was almost there, but there was blood everywhere, and she didn’t stop bleeding. Someone else was with her, a young man, practically still a child, who had no idea what he’d gotten himself into, had just been told to go and bring her some food, and was terrified. I went over to her, she told me how to name him. She died almost immediately after that.”

There was a strange noise that gradually grew louder, and it took them a while before they realised it was Vader, whose grief and anger were almost tangible in the room, and the atmosphere was so oppressive they all found it hard to breathe. It was the raw cry of an animal about to be gutted. “How can you sit here… and tell me, to my face, with dry eyes, as if talking about the weather, of my wife’s death!” Vader asked, and if not for Ahsoka, he might have jumped up and strangled Piett with his bare hands, but she’d gone over to his side and tried to calm him. There was nothing human about his voice anymore. As it was, he began to cry, bawling inconsolably, and it was a heart-rending sound. 

Piett looked up at him, pleadingly, but couldn’t stand the sight before him very long, deeply ashamed to watch Vader in this moment of unadulterated, raw grief, and cast down his eyes again. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I know I did wrong. I wish I could take it all back,” he whispered repeatedly. 

Luke saw something momentous was happening, and sat nailed to the couch, almost afraid to breathe. He didn’t understand, but stayed in the background. He felt he should know, that something had been said just now that had upturned his world as well, but he was frozen, both in body and mind. His thoughts existed only outside himself right now, had abandoned him, he had no idea where they were, somewhere up there, high up, where he couldn’t reach them - they couldn’t touch him. The Luke sitting here on the couch right now, who was disappearing into the upholstery, who’d made himself as small as possible, who could be invisible if he only committed himself to it entirely, that was another Luke. The real Luke was not present.

Eventually, after an undetermined amount of time had passed, Piett continued. “Palpatine panicked when he heard of what had happened, and so he ordered the child to be killed. To erase all traces, to make it disappear. I took the baby and left. I knew I couldn’t kill the boy, couldn’t do that. So I drove up to the orphanage, figured that would be a safe place for now. The child would be anonymous there, and I’d lie low and see how it all played out.” He was silent.

Vader was shaking his head, compulsively. “No,” he said. “Say this isn’t true. Please. Please.” Tears ran down his face, and he repeated those few words over and over again, as if they were a mantra that could keep the evil past from Piett’s story, that bound them all together in this time and place, from happening.

“Then - I don’t know how much later, hours, three, five, maybe a day - Palpatine came to me. I hid at one of the villa’s that he kept for foreign visitors. He came alone, which was quite unusual. I confirmed that I’d gotten rid of the baby. He was in a boastful mood, seemed relieved. He told me he’d solved everything, that there was no more Skywalker family left to haunt him. That any moment now, while we were talking there, Anakin Skywalker would see his end, effectively solving his problems. And then I understood. He didn’t care about anything or anyone, except that if Skywalker ever found out that his wife had died, he’d probably find him and end him. He’d be afraid of him as long as he lived. So he eliminated that factor from the equation, he really saw things as coldly and clinical, from that uniquely selfish perspective like that. I think… he thought I would share that perspective, but I couldn’t hold it together anymore. He became suspicious. And… I don’t remember what happened exactly. I’m not a violent man by nature, but everything that had happened that day… Something inside me shifted. He lashed out at me, and I hit back. I eventually left him behind for dead and ran. I told a friend what had happened, a colleague, Veers, who recommended me to go into hiding, and so I did.”

“So you’re the one that killed him. The exact circumstances were never cleared up,” Ahsoka said, torn between awe and disgust for this little man who’d turned lives upside down, without ever having taken responsibility for his actions. 

Piett nodded. “I was not the only one who’d wanted him dead, and not the most suspected. I had friends and colleagues who covered for me. It was… a conspiracy, so to speak. One that came too late to avert tragedy. Briefly after that day, I read online that Anakin Skywalker had died in an accident.” He was silent for a moment. “I always meant to go back to the orphanage. Tell Luke who his parents were. But I had to stay low for years. And I believed him an orphan. I for sure couldn’t care for him. So it became less urgent. Years passed, and I’d moved abroad. But it never let me go, and I realised the boy was growing up, was not a child anymore. So I went back to that orphanage. He - _you_ ,” and now he addressed Luke directly, “needed to know the truth. It was bad luck we missed each other several times, but I heard in the village you spend a lot of time here. So I came here, in hopes of finding you. To tell you…” 

Vader couldn’t hold it together anymore, got up and began to pace up and down the room. “Do you realise what you did?” he shouted. “Do you really? You were the last one to see my wife, and are at the very least partially responsible for her death. You stole _my life_ from me. You took my son, I believed him dead! All these years! I-”

“I also _saved_ his life!” Piett interrupted. “I did it to do good. I didn’t know you were alive until today. I know… I know none of that excuses my actions.” 

“Stop!” Luke shouted, panting as if he’d run a marathon. “Just stop! I… what’s going on? You’re talking _about me_. And you’re acting as if I’m not really here. I don’t want this!” He’d gradually raised his voice, and he’d stood up, and now he was running, apparently - he hadn’t intended to do so, but he was running, left the living room, past the coats in the hallway, heard the adults shouting his name but it didn’t really register, opening and closing the door, and then he was outside, kept on running, remembered that - yes! Here, exactly here, he’d run before and had fallen when Vader had shot him, but this time no one and nothing stopped him. Until he’d reached the trees, and a little further. Until no one could see him, and only then did his thoughts return to his head, and he crashed down with the realisation of everything he’d heard tonight. So he had a father still.

And he’d known this father for several weeks now.

Had been jealous of that man’s deceased son, he could admit that now. But there wasn’t a deceased son, it was him.

Had wanted his love, had not wanted it at the same time, because then he’d be scared to lose it.  

After weeks of tension, weeks of uncertainty, the mystery had been solved in the most unimaginable way, and you could say, most favourable way, so then why didn’t it feel like that? His name wasn’t Piett. It was Skywalker, apparently, if he’d heard correctly. Why had he run outside, away from everyone? Why hadn’t he listened to Piett finally speaking those words: “He’s your father.” Why hadn’t he looked at Vader with the joy of recognition in his eyes for the first time, the yearning he’d struggled with since forever resolved, why hadn’t they embraced and hugged and said they’d been waiting for each other all their lives? Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? He knew what that embrace felt like, it would have been even better this time, tighter, warmer, longer, because he was his _son_. Vader would have been overjoyed, he would have cried, they’d have talked all evening and deep into the night. Instead he sat here alone, in the forest, where no one would find him, where he could think it all over - though he wasn’t sure what he was thinking about exactly at the moment. And deep inside, he knew why he’d run away. Because right then, all he’d seen when he’d looked at Vader was a broken man, and not the father he’d dreamed of having all those long and lonely years, a man torn apart by the death of his wife that he had to go through all over again, as, after many years, he finally heard what had happened to her from the one who witnessed her last moments. And all he could see flashing before his mind’s eye was the image of a faceless woman, lying somewhere on a cold and concrete floor, blood all over, probably not that far away from here, and he knew this image would haunt him in his dreams. He was afraid of these dreams that were waiting for him, because they were telling him that if not for him, she would still be alive. Luke felt numb. There was the silence and the cold, as a perfect antidote for the heat and movement and sound of his thoughts. He decided he’d stay here forever and let his thoughts slowly leak out of his head, until they’d formed a little stream on the forest floor and flowed away, away, away.

 

***

 

After Luke had left an unnatural silence immediately descended on the room, until Vader broke it, the sight of his newly discovered son running from the room as if he was possessed by the devil immediately igniting some greater instinct, that had been dormant all those years. “Oh god,” he resumed his pacing. “My _son_. I need to do something. I’m a father for five minutes and already I don’t know what to do. What should I do? I have to go and find him. Or leave him alone? Does he even want me?”

“Calm down, please,” Ahsoka said. “Of course he wants you, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then why did he run off?”

“Stop shouting at me! He’ll come back. Give him some time. I’s a lot to take in.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Vader stopped pacing and looked imploringly at her.

“Oh Anakin,” she walked up to him and touched his face tenderly. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be a great father, god knows you’ll do better than most possibly could. I know that. You don’t need my help, but I’ll try my best if you want it. Remember how happy you were when you first heard Padmé was pregnant?”

He nodded.

“That’s all that matters. You’ll figure out the rest on the way. You both will, together, because I don’t think Luke knows how to be a son.”

“I should go find him,” Vader said after a moment’s deliberation. 

“You’re still sick! I can go, you stay inside.”

“I’ll wear a coat. He’s my son, Ahsoka. I need to find him.”

She nodded in assent. “Take a flashlight with you. It’s dark out there.”

Only after Vader had left the room, Ahsoka seemed to remember Piett’s presence. 

“I ruined it all. I ruined their lives,” he said, looking miserable.

Ahsoka looked at him a long time. “You made mistakes, big ones. But I think you’ve been telling us the truth, and you did what you thought was right at the time. And all is not lost. But you should think about atonement. So many questions always remained open. Your statement could close this case. It doesn’t bring back the dead or the years lost, but it’s something.”

He nodded. “Yes. I will. I swear I will.” 

“Good. For now, you can help me with dinner. It’s getting late and we all need to eat something. God, I’m tired. And now I don’t have one, but two Skywalkers on my hands,” she grumbled. 

 

***

 

He was glad he’d taken the flashlight, because it was new moon and extremely dark. Thank god for Ahsoka and her brilliant ideas, as he’d never have thought of it himself in the heat of the moment. The silence out here was unearthly; peaceful if he’d been in the mood for it perhaps, but right now it spread a sense of foreboding. By the time he reached the edge of the clearing he was sweating and shivering at the same time, the fever obscuring his senses, his elevated heartbeat echoing in his ears. But that registered only as a minor discomfort in the back of his mind, the fear that he’d lost Luke a raging monster in his chest. “Luke!” he shouted his name, but there was no answer and his voice didn’t carry, absorbed by the snow blanket covering the world. He entered the forest.

He had trouble navigating the uneven terrain, his steps slow and halting, afraid that he’d miscalculate the distance to the invisible ground, hidden by the snow, and fall. Luke had a huge headstart and was fast as a deer, every gust of wind through the trees telling him where to go, every sound whispered a secret in his ear of the goings-on around here. His lungs didn’t burn and he was sure on his feet. Vader would never catch up with him. But he was also a young boy running around in wild territory at night, no matter how intimately familiar he was with this environment, he was still at risk. He could try to jump too far or high and fall, reckless as boys his age usually were, he could break something. There were bears here. His heart beat faster at that thought. “Luke!” he shouted again, and he heard his own panic in his voice. Admittedly, there hadn’t been a sighting for quite some time and, as far as he knew, it had been a long time since a bear and human came into conflict around here, but it could happen, and that thought alone was enough to spur him on. He couldn’t lose his son now he’d just found him, could he? Fate couldn’t be that cruel. Even if said son rather ran off in the biting cold at night, possibly straight back to the hellhole orphanage he loathed, than looked his newfound father in the eye. Why did he run. Deep down he knew Luke didn’t hate him, he knew he was overreacting, but it was hard to control the tide of his thoughts and silence his worst fears. “Luke!” There was nothing except for flashes of white and dark shades lightening up at the edge of the beam of his flashlight, it was disorienting. Just then, he misstepped, and the next thing he knew he was on his knees in the snow, breathing rapidly with exertion and the shock of the cold against his bare hands and his terror, that he’d lost him, lost him before he’d ever had him. He’d dropped the flashlight, but it was nearby, and there, in the beam that pointed straight ahead, there he appeared, all of a sudden, deadly quiet, a slip of a boy.

“Luke!” His relief, crashing into him hard, completely overwhelming, bled through in his voice. 

“Hi,” he said, in that characteristically shy tone of his, almost detached, giving the impression he was ready to bolt any moment, but might just as well come closer, to nuzzle his palm, if only for a moment. “Are you all right?”

“ _Am I_ \- Yes! Are you?” He clambered to his feet, crossed the distance between them in a few quick strides, and engulfed the boy in his arms. He probably held him way too long, and when he let him go, he kept one hand on his shoulder, as if afraid he’d run away again. Or perhaps to steady him, Luke or himself, he wasn’t sure. “Here,” and he took off his coat and wrapped Luke in it. It was much too big, almost comically so. 

“I’m fine,” Luke said, still so quietly.

“Will you… come back with me?” Vader asked. “It’s much too cold to be outside like this,” he added lamely. 

Luke nodded, and together they walked back, slowly, and at some point Luke grabbed his hand. Vader wondered if he did so because he really wanted to, or for his sake, but it didn’t matter, because he’d never been as glad to hold someone’s hand as he was now. It had felt like he’d walked an eternity before he found Luke, but now they arrived at the edge of the trees much sooner than expected, and as the light of the house reached their eyes and the flashlight was unnecessary again, a sense of normalcy came back to him and he finally exhaled. His child hadn’t been stolen by the night and there was still time, to make this work.

Back inside he dropped down on the couch, ignoring the sounds coming from the kitchen, trying to wrap his head around this completely foreign idea: his child was alive, and currently curled up on the other end of the couch, looking lost and tired, and as he looked him over carefully, he wondered why he didn’t see it before. He was his parents’ spitting image, with his father’s colouring and his mother’s built. He shared his gift for mathematics and based on his tendency to gallivant around forests and places he shouldn’t stick his nose in, his mother’s free spirit. His birthday and age were right, and he had the name he and Padmé had picked out long before he was born. He was an introvert like his father, with the bold and direct streak of his mother. And he’d been so hung up on the past and what he’d lost, fighting to keep the memories locked away, where they belonged, that he had not once suspected the truth. Luke was looking at him as well, and normally it would have made him uncomfortable to have someone stare at him this intently, but now he welcomed it. Perhaps they just needed a while to acclimatise before they found the words. 

“Are you ready for some dinner?” Ahsoka asked, uncharacteristically gently. 

Distracted, Vader looked up. “Yes,” he said, quickly glancing over at Luke, who also seemed to wake up from a trance and nodded. They followed Ahsoka to the kitchen, but before they did, Vader couldn’t resist and put his hand on Luke’s shoulder for a moment when the boy was about to walk past him, and squeezed in what he hoped would be construed as a comforting gesture.

By some higher miracle Ahsoka had managed to make a more than decent mac and cheese, accompanied by a salad, though perhaps that was thanks to her reluctant kitchen aid, who looked horribly uncomfortable at having to share a meal with Vader. Vader couldn’t blame him for that: meeting a man you’d thought long dead, and consequently having to tell him you witnessed his wife’s death and put his son in an orphanage probably was no one’s idea of a pleasant holiday well-spent, but vindictively, Vader thought it served him well. It took all his willpower not to be violent towards the little man, currently sitting opposite him and looking down at his hands - but no, that was not true. The knowledge that his son was sitting right next to him and probably shouldn’t witness his father kill a man in cold blood was enough to reign in his temper. Why Ahsoka hadn’t kicked him out already, he didn’t understand. They ate in silence.

After dinner Ahsoka accompanied Piett to the door. “Can we stay in touch somehow? We might have more questions for you later,” she asked.

“Of course,” he answered hurriedly, and scribbled down his phone number. “It’s the least I can do. But I’m giving myself up, so I might not be able to take any calls.” He seemed to have grown even smaller when he walked off to his car, and after a last lingering glance at Ahsoka, drove off into the night, leaving them to their own devices.

“So,” she said, when she returned to the kitchen. “Do you want to talk?”

“No,” Luke and Vader answered simultaneously, surprising each other. 

“Can I go to bed?” Luke asked. “I’d just like to sleep.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said softly. “Will you be all right? Do you want us to come with you?”

He looked at her warily. “Erm, no thanks,” he muttered, and disappeared from the kitchen, silent as a ghost. Vader followed him with his gaze, and sighed.

“Here,” Ahsoka passed him a glass, and sat opposite him at the table, pouring a second whiskey for herself. He raised the glass slightly in thanks, then drank.

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what to feel right now…” he trailed off.

“You are furious with Piett, because it is only normal to feel anger over everything that happened and he is the only one you could project your anger on, but you realise that he is not entirely to blame for everything that happened?”

“Exactly,” he said after a long time. You know it’s uncanny when you do that, right? I do hate him. She needn’t have died. But a part of me, that closed off the grieving chapter some time ago, the rational part of me, can’t. It’s tearing me apart. And Luke… I’ve no idea what’s going on in that little head of his. But I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of what he’s thinking. That I’d rather not know.”

“You know… You’re talking now, but that once was different. You always used to bottle everything up until it destroyed you. Over the years you gradually became better at it. If he’s anything like you, he’ll talk soon enough. Give him some time. He did come back with you, earlier.”

Vader nodded, but didn’t really seem convinced. “Do you mind if I go to bed soon as well?”

“Of course not. It’s probably for the best if we all do just that.”

Once he was alone in the dark of his bedroom he lay staring unseeingly at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. When he opened his eyes again it was light outside, and he stretched out pleasantly. He stretched out his legs until the joint in his right ankle cracked. His legs were whole, and when he looked down at his naked torso, the skin was unblemished, and his left arm was all pins and needles. He turned his head. She was lying on his shoulder, still asleep. He simply stared at her, deeply moved by something as simple as being able to look at his sleeping wife. She stirred, waking up slowly, and smiled at him. “Look after our son, will you?” she said, and then he startled awake violently in the dark, heart pounding as if he’d run a marathon. There was a noise at the door. 

 

***

 

Luke swung open the door soundlessly, waiting in the doorway, trying to get used to the complete darkness inside. He’d been tossing and turning in bed for at least an hour, trying to work through the tangle of his thoughts. When he walked back from the forest at Vader’s side earlier, he’d noticed the window of what was now his room, and realised that had things gone differently, his father and mother probably would have slept there. It was the master bedroom after all. Perhaps he’d have been in Ahsoka’s room, or even Vader’s bedroom downstairs. It had shocked him to the core. He’d given up on sleep at some point and gotten up, descended the stairs, familiar enough with the house by now to navigate it effortlessly in the dark. And automatically walked here, as if drawn by a higher force. The room was quiet, and very dark. The curtains were drawn. Then, a rustle, from the direction of the bed.

“Luke?” In the dim light spilling in from the hallway behind Luke, Vader could only see the boy’s silhouette. He looked really small like this, especially with the faint halo of light that outlined his stature, or perhaps that was only wishful thinking from his side. He was fifteen already, not quite a child anymore, though he looked it every bit right now.  

“Yeah,” Luke answered in a small voice, not quite sure why he’d come here, but at the same time, there was no other place where he could logically be right now.

“Can’t sleep?” Vader asked, his voice hoarse. “Me neither,” he offered, at Luke’s silence. “Come,” he propped himself up in bed, leaning on his elbow, “Come in,” beckoning the boy closer, though he probably couldn’t see that in the dark.

Luke walked a little closer. “I’m not sure why I came here,” he said eventually, sounding lost. 

“That’s all right,” Vader said awkwardly. 

Neither of them moved, they simply stared through the darkness in each other’s direction, listening attentively to any sound the other might make as to give them a clue on what to do or say next. There was tension in the air, both waiting for the other to move first.

“I’m glad you came,” Vader said after a while.

“I don’t even know how to address you right now.” Luke choked back tears. 

“I’ll take anything you feel comfortable with,” Vader said carefully. He wasn’t sure what else he should offer the boy, feeling just as ill at ease and woefully underprepared for his new role as Luke. He wished he knew what the boy really felt, what he was supposed to do. Could they really be father and son now, just because some stranger had barged in and declared it was so? Was that how it worked? Should he offer comfort, or give him space?

“Father,” Luke tried the foreign word on his tongue, his voice breaking on the second syllable.

“Son,” Vader replied softly. “My son.” He smiled sadly, unseen in the darkness. “That really suits you, you know,” he said, in a light tone that belied how he really felt. But it was true, it did. Just like the first time he’d said it, this afternoon, even if it had been in the throes of anger and panic, something fluttered in his chest at speaking those words. Yes, perhaps that was exactly how it worked, parenthood. How it would work for them from now on, he vowed. 

Luke laughed between his tears.

“Come here. You must be freezing.”

Luke didn’t hesitate anymore, and crossed the distance to the bed in a few quick steps. Vader pulled back the covers so Luke could crawl in, and he immediately pulled the boy close, not overthinking it, holding him tightly. In his father’s arms, his head against his chest, Luke didn’t hold back his tears anymore, and cried out all those years of loneliness, and the confusion of the past day. 

“I’m sorry I’m crying,” Luke mumbled eventually. Vader’s shirt was soaked by now.

“That makes two of us right now, buddy,” Vader said, his voice thick, rubbing Luke’s back in a gesture that came automatically. “You’re ice-cold.” He held on tight to the boy - to _his son_ , who pressed himself against his father in return. “I can’t believe I had to miss out on you all those years. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not as if you knew,” Luke mumbled. “I can’t believe I have a father. That you’re my father.”

“I’m sure you had different expectations in that regard,” Vader said bitterly.

“No!” Luke said heatedly. “I wouldn’t wish for anyone else. You’re perfect.”

“As are you, my son. You’re all I ever dreamt of, and more.”

Somehow it was easier to have this conversation in the dark, to say the things they both needed to hear, that had to be said before they could explore and develop their new relationship. “Are you angry with me?”

“Angry? How could I possibly be angry with you?”

“Because you would still have her without me. And… You wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“Luke… Is that what you think?” Vader asked with difficulty. “Listen to me, my son. Your mother and I wanted you more than anything else and chose your name after we’d heard your heartbeat for the first time. We’d have done anything for you, anything at all, because that’s simply what parents do. Nothing is your fault. Didn’t you hear? All of this is a crazy, evil, old man’s fault. Your mother would have been so proud of who you’ve become.”

As the warmth slowly returned to Luke’s body in his father’s arms, his tears dried up and he felt, for the first time in days, maybe even forever, real calm coming over him. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked.

“Nothing you should worry about. My lawyers will solve this. You’re never going back to that place in any case. We’ll figure it out from here.”

“I get to stay with you from now on?”

“Of course!” Vader said, appalled at the suggestion that Luke might think otherwise. 

“Okay,” he said drowsily.

Vader marvelled at how easily the boy trusted him. Still a child after all. His son. He couldn’t get enough of that, never would. The son he’d dreamed of for years, dreams he’d kept at bay as much as was in his power because they made him wake up aching and depressed, the boy he’d believed had never had a chance in this world, that boy now lay in his arms and was fast falling asleep, by the looks of it. “Don’t grow up too quickly, okay,” he murmured. “Give your father a little longer with his little boy.”

Luke muttered something incomprehensible in reply. Vader cringed when Luke’s legs inadvertently touched the stump of his right leg, afraid it would scare him off, but Luke didn’t react, and eventually he relaxed. He intended to stay awake, to savour this moment a little longer, but faster than he’d thought possible, he fell asleep as well. 

And that was how Ahsoka found them, the next morning, when she first noticed Luke’s bed was empty, then tiptoed into the corridor, took a quick look through the open door: Vader’s arm around his son, Luke’s face pressed against his father’s shoulder, both still fast asleep. She smiled, went back to the kitchen, thinking pancakes would make a perfect breakfast today. Possibly with blueberries - that is, if there were any left in the freezer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few general notes:
> 
> The first chapter consists of scenes from two timelines. The first one, in which we follow around a young Vader and Ahsoka, having successful careers, travelling around the world, living as roomies, talking about dating and social media. Typical millennials, in many ways. And the second one, fifteen years later, in which Luke is a teenager living in abominable conditions. Even though there are fifteen years separating both timelines, the second timeline might feel less modern than the first one. That’s not an oversight on my side. The thing is: in the second timeline the setting is a small, rural, impoverished town that could be anywhere in the western world, but that we might find predominantly in the USA these days. I wanted to show that progress and modernity, here in the shape of Instagram influencers, fancy bars, a higher education, pasta pesto with fresh ingredients for dinner, are in fact luxury goods. So even though the second timeline is the first timeline’s future, you might feel you’ve been catapulted to the past. Because in small towns like the one in this story, places that were left behind when factories closed or moved and that no one cares about anymore, people are not so much worried about their Instagram accounts, but mostly about what they can afford to have for dinner. So yeah, I couldn’t resist injecting some politics in this story, though you can easily ignore it if you want, and simply focus on atmosphere. But remember, folks, everything is political :)
> 
> Orphanages like the one I describe in this story don’t really exist anymore in the western world, but I felt I had the right to some artistic license. 
> 
> I listened to SO MUCH music while writing this - apart from the writing process itself, I enjoyed that as well.
> 
> Fun fact: I started writing this when it was definitely still winter and I'd come down with a respiratory infection. That seems ages ago now, as it's very much summer right now. 
> 
> And then, lastly, and probably what you're most interested in: Yes! There will be an epilogue. I'm just not sure yet if I'll add it to this story as a "bonus chapter", or if I'll upload it separately and make this a series, as I like this ending and feel the story is pretty balanced out as it is now. This epilogue will be quite fluffy and sweet. Opinions? Thoughts?


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